


What If I Gave My Ambition For A Brain

by keycchan



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, don't worry most of the fic is just piper being a walking disaster, just a little bit, radiation poisoning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 16:30:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12193557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keycchan/pseuds/keycchan
Summary: Sometimes things go wrong. Sometimes things go right. Sometimes there's acute radiation poisoning, an overly nice weapons dealer, and a dinner date set up by meddling kids.Piper's really trying to cope with it all.





	What If I Gave My Ambition For A Brain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katrinajg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katrinajg/gifts).



_I have to get home. I have to get home. Nat needs me, I need to get home._

It’s the only thing she can think about, the only thing she  _has_  to think about, over and over and over in her head like a broken record, driving her forward. Everything hurts, her stomach is churning something  _fierce_  that’s making cold sweat burst over her skin, her hair sticking over her face, and a fever is burning her down to the core. She can barely stand straight, let alone walk.

_One foot in front of the other, Pipes, Nat’s waiting for you._

She’s shaking. She knows she is, and she can barely keep a tight enough grip on her gun to keep it in her fist. She’s doing it though, so, that’s one less thing to worry about (so long as she doesn’t think about how useless it’ll be if something,  _anything_ , actually comes up to attack her, though. Positive thinking, Piper, positive thinking.)

It shouldn’t feel this long to get back to Bunker Hill. Certainly didn’t feel this long when she headed over there earlier today, full of excitement and eagerness and  _god_ , she was stupid. So, so stupid, reckless, she  _knows_  that she’d underestimated what she’d find there, but hindsight’s a bitch and here she is, barely trudging along, about ready to keel over at any point.  _Nice going, Piper,_  she manages to berate herself as she nearly trips over a rock and barely manages to stabilize herself before she makes contact with the cold ground,  _you’ve prepared for supermutant dens, deathclaw cage matches, and your stupid ego and a bunch of cultists is what kills you_.

She hears the sounds of Bunker Hill long before she comes close, and the relief that bursts through her system almost brings her to her knees more than her stomach is. She runs bloodied fingers through her hair (she’d lost her cap somewhere in the sewers), sweat-damp and greasy and she’s  _definitely_  not thinking about the strands of it that’s coming off in her palm. Nope. She’s fine. She’ll be  _fine_ , if she can just get her feet to stop being so clumsy and get her to Bunker Hill faster.

Her stomach is her biggest hindrance right now, if she were honest. She can handle the disorientation, the panic of hair loss, the weakness and the headaches and the fever that’s almost  _guaranteed_  to come on in worse waves later on and punch her in the throat, but the absolute  _worst_  thing to deal with right now is her stomach, roiling and churning with what feels, at this point, like cold acid, almost  _burning_  her from the inside out, and the sheer nausea is turning her white as a sheet and clammy as all get out, sweat-slick and pained, and she’d rather shoot her foot off than deal with this.

( But she has to. She has to come home, has to think of Nat, and oh, god, if she doesn’t make it back —

The thought of it makes her chest go cold in the worst ways, fear sparking her system that’s already failing her, and she does what she has to — she stops thinking. Shuts off whatever thought comes to her, puts one foot in front of the other and keeps walking, doesn’t think about the shit she just went through, just keeps  _moving_. She can’t afford to slow down. She still has a job to do. )

By the time she comes into view of the place — all lights and chatter, merchants and mercenaries gathered alike to seek food and warmth and company in the same place — she can barely look up, the need to curl in on herself or rip out her stomach almost too strong to ignore. The nausea and dizziness makes her sway, and she can taste copper on her tongue from where she’s biting her lower lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to keep herself awake and going, awake and  _alive_.

She’s lucky — and god, she’s been lucky all night, she almost wants to laugh and praise the atom for real for the luck she’s had tonight — that one of the folks up on Bunker Hill spot her, probably looking like a real sad sight. The next thing she knows, there’s an arm hauling her up, supporting her, slinging her arm around the stranger’s shoulders, and she can barely get the energy to look up.

“The hell happened to you?” It’s a woman, pretty, dark eyes and dark hair, and  _oh geez_ , she’s being hauled upright and she feels sicker than ever.  _Hurgh._

“No time.” Piper manages, weakly. “Bring me to security.”

It’s a blur after that. Piper only remembers two things in the remaining span of her consciousness after being carried — one; making the lady lead her to Bunker Hill security where she’d managed, though slurring, to tell them about the children of atom hiding out in the sewers and poisoning the water, and two; promptly bending over as soon as she was done, and vomiting bloody and ugly on her own scuffed leathers shoes before passing out.

 

* * *

 

 

The kindness of strangers is something Piper’s never taken for granted, not since Nat was born and they needed more supplies than they had, not since both their parents died, not since, well.  _Everything_. The wasteland is rough, but the people can be good to you, and paying that kindness forward is what keeps the whole place from turning into a real hellscape.

As it turns out, anyway, the kindly stranger’s name is Deb, and Piper already knows her wife — resident Bunker Hill medic, Kay.

She ends up having to offer her scarf and her gloves as payment for the treatment. Because lady luck is clearly shining her way, the children of atom had taken everything scrap from her except the clothes on her back and her trusty pistol, and while kay is nice enough, Bunker Hill is still the settlement built on caps, and those are things Piper’s got about none of since she’d crawled out of the hole last night and passed out right in front of the security team, right after puking what actually might’ve been her guts out. Talk about first impressions.

Still, it’s a pretty lenient payment. Kay had been kind to her, nicer than she needed to be, treating Piper with radaway in her sleep and giving her a bed in the doc’s own shack. Had even thrown in a can of purified water and some molerat jerky for the road, all in exchange for a warm scarf ( _goodbye old friend,_  Piper thinks a little bittersweet,  _you fantastic neckwarmer, you_ ) and her nice leather gloves (aw, and she really liked those). All in all, not a bad price to pay.

Still. It means she’s just that little bit colder, as she moves through the wastes, one hand constantly on the brahmin beside her just to grasp a little warmth in her fingers. She hadn’t gotten nearly enough treatment for the probably ridiculous levels of radiation poisoning she has — a bag of radaway can only do so much when you get radioactive waste water literally  _poured_  down your throat, ha ha ha  — but she’d promised Nat she’d be back today, she's got no caps to stay another night and it’s not like she can live on the kindness of the good doctor alone. So as soon as her stomach stopped feeling like it was going to hurl itself out of her throat and the ground beneath her feet stopped moving, she’d hitched a ride along with Trashcan Carla and her brahmin.

Carla’s one of the oldest traders in the business, and for good reason. She seems to have a sixth sense for incoming danger, avoids risks that Piper can’t even see, and while her paths might take longer they’re also safer, which Piper  _can’t_  complain about, not when she still tastes copper between her teeth and her gut still churns if she goes too long without taking a break.

Least Carla’s nice enough to not comment on her condition. That’s another blessing Piper will take.

And when Piper suddenly opens her eyes at some point and realizes she’s  _on top_  of the brahmin she’s supposed to help guard, dazed and feeling ten sorts of sick, well. Her first thought is  _how did she lift me up here?_

Her second one is: she’ll owe Carla into her next two  _lifetimes_  for this.

“Stop thinkin’. Sleep and keep quiet.” Carla suddenly says, and Piper’s head still feels heavy as she looks at the merchant, who doesn’t even care to look at her — “We’re halfway to Diamond City.”

 _Three_  lifetimes. Maybe even four.

But hey, never tell anyone ol’ Piper isn’t a woman of her words. She passes right out as soon as her brain registers it, grabs that little window of time where her stomach isn’t killing her and just fades to darkness. She’s feeling so much  _worse_  than she thought — if Carla at any point decides to just haul the extra weight off of poor ol’ Buttercup and throw Piper down in a ditch somewhere and leave her for dead, well. She doubts she’d even know until it’s too late.

Beggars can’t be choosers though, ‘specially true if you can barely stay awake enough to be wary. She only vaguely remembers the sound of gunshots in the distance, and the brahmin picking up speed. Some low buzzing of insects somewhere farther off. And then just, vaguely,  _vaguely_ , the sound of an intercom buzzing to life, and what sounds like Danny Sullivan’s voice following right before the suddenly cacophonous rolling of the metal gate. It makes her head spin and her stomach  _roil_  again. 

 _I’m home_ , she thinks, and tries to push herself up on her arms so she can climb down the brahmin and see Nat, but  _oh, god,_  just sends a wave of nausea to her head, her arms weak, she can’t puke on the brahmin or Carla will kill her —

“ _Piper_!!” Comes a familiar voice,  _I’m home, Nat, I’m home —_

— freefall, a firework of pain  _bursts_ on her face and head, and then —

 

* * *

 

 

When the world comes back to Piper, she’s in her own bed.  _What_?

“Ah, geez.” She mutters, eyes opening to the familiar warmth of  _home_ , but her bones ache something fierce and her head is still killing her. 

God, she doesn’t even remember how she  _got_  here. Granted, she’s grateful for the small things, like that she’d had the good sense to keep her home lighting nice and warm and not overly bright, because it makes easing up her eyes to get used to being open again after passing out for — for — she doesn’t even  _know_  how long, but she’s certainly home and she doesn’t remember  _how_. There’s just no mistaking the warmth of her bed, the scratch of her blanket, that familiar smell of ink and old paper (and how close had she come to never smelling that again, huh).

Whoever brought her to bed was nice enough to change her out of her clothes, at least. She looks down to see her worn cotton tee shirt and her favourite pair of ratty sweatpants —  _please tell me it was Nat that changed my clothes, not anyone else, these pants have holes the size of McDonough’s friggin’ ego and no one else in Diamond City needs to see my cooter_ — and the blanket, where she’d apparently kicked it away in her sleep.

Beside her, there’s an IV set up and linking to her arm, a bag of radaway already halfway gone.  _Huh_. Probably means Doc Sun had come by then, since it’s not like she’d got any spares of  _this_  hanging around her humble abode.

Which  _means_  she’s gotta dig out every scrap of caps she’s got left to pay him off.  _And_  Trashcan Carla.

“Looks like it’s cram and instamash for the Wright sisters for awhile.” Piper mutters to herself a little louder, pushing back her greasy hair with a hand, more relieved than she should be that none of it comes off in her hands. She finds her faded red scrunchie by her bedside to tie her hair back with, and then summons all her energy to sit up and swing her legs off the bed, standing, trying not to let the nausea get to her head (though it’s not nearly as bad as it was back in Bunker Hill.)

A reply doesn’t come back to her, and her home echoes empty.  _Nat’s probably in school_ , she figures, and  _good_ , because she can’t let something like a little acute radiation poisoning mess up Nat’s education. God knows that girl’s getting into enough trouble as is, just running amok around Diamond City when Piper  _is_  around. It’s a good enough thing to come back to, all things considered.  _I’m alive and Nat’s in school. All that matters for the Wright girls_ , she thinks a little wearily, but it feels good to smile a little again after the whole... Ordeal.

( —  _too late. If she’d been a second too late in thinking she’d be dead. If her mouth hadn’t saved her, just this one time, she’d never see the lights of Diamond City again, never see the Commonwealth sky, never see Nat_  — )

She decides not to think about it.

But heck if she’s  _parched_. Her throat feels like she’s been gargling glass, and she doesn’t know how long she’s been out for. They probably hooked her up to another IV before this, but it’s not doing anything for her throat or the cracked surface of her lips, tasting blood when she runs her tongue over them to wet them, wincing at the copper. Her limbs  _ache_  like nothing before when she finally finds the strength to stand and  _hoo_ , she’s actually worried she might just topple down the steps if she tries to head down,  _I warned you about the stairs_  — 

And she only ends up stumbling twice headed down, while also carrying her IV drip. She cheers a little on the inside — and a little sad-sounding  _woo_ on the outside, but no one’s around to see it so it’s fine — and then makes the slow walk to the fridge. Takes little mental notes of her home and compares it to how it looked before she left a few days ago. Everything looks the same, at least — her scribbled notes and scraps of paper still sitting on the coffee table and weighed down with nuka cola stains, Nat’s report slip stuck on the fridge with half-broken cartoon magnets alongside scraps of scrawled stories. It makes Piper crack a smile, even now. 

 _Gonna be a writer like her sister someday_ , the thought comes to her, unbidden, Mr Zwicky’s voice reassuring but almost  _painful_  in her own brain.  _Looks like there’ll be two journalists for the Publick Occurrences in the future._

The thought makes her smile turn sour, and quick. She shuts her eyes. And then banishes  _that_  thought away too.

Power’s been flickering all over Diamond City for the past week and a half now thanks to something going belly up in one of the new generators hitched outside the settlement. It’s a temporary thing, Piper knows — she’d gone and investigated herself, suspecting something fishy but just came face to face with a pretty clear view of a jumble of smoking wires and metal bits where the generator’s supposed to be — but it does mean the water she fetches from the fridge is just a hair cooler than lukewarm when she grabs it and heads over to the couch.

 _Still better than ninety percent of the Commonwealth, Piper,_ she thinks, plopping down on the ratty and patched cushions, cracking open the chilled tin and looking into the clear water inside, fresh from Sheng’s shack.

 _Water is water_ , she thinks, pressing the cold tin to her dry mouth.

 _At least you have water_ , she thinks, as the liquid slicks around her tongue and down her throat.

 _Count your blessings_ , she thinks, as she swallows, and —

(  _— the fucking induction ceremony, rope loose around her but a dozen hands holding her down and pressing into flesh until she’d bruised. One skinny one grabbing her face, the hard underknuckle of a thumb pressing hard into her jaw, her eyes wide and panicking, but the pressure unrelenting and forcing her jaw open —_

 _Bright, green water being poured down her throat against her will, until she’d choked on it, her eyes burning, the water going down her throat like diluted battery acid and coming up again through her nose, making her lungs fucking burn as she coughed up hard enough to gag, throwing up, and then more of the water, and more, and more, until she’d thrashed in her seat, throat raw, and she swore she would drown there, swore she would die —_ )

She doesn’t realize she’s shaking until the can slips from trembling fingers and hits the coffee table, spilling out over all her notes and staining the ink. Stares wide-eyed as the water spreads and darkens each edge of the wood it touches.

 _Stupid, clumsy Piper_ , she numbly thinks, but she can’t even bring herself to pick up the can or save her notes. A part of her thinks she should be a little more mad about it, at least annoyed, water is precious out here, but all she can bring herself to do is curl in on herself. Watch, silent, as the water on the table spreads out and blots her notes in wet ink. Tucks her shaking hands under her armpits in the hopes it’ll calm them the fuck down, and tries her best will away the sudden cold, painful, anxious dread spreading through her ribcage. The dread. The  _fear_. The burning of unshed tears behind her eyes and in her throat.

The memories.

She blocks it out. Just tries her best to breathe and blocks the stupid memories  _out_ , damn it, she doesn’t have  _time_  for this. She’s out here. She’s alive. Nat’s doing okay. And more importantly, the truth it out and hundreds of Bunker Hill residents and regulars won’t die from slow radiation poisoning. It should be all that matters, it should be all that  _ever_  matters. (if only life were so simple.)

She... doesn’t know how long she sits on that couch, knees up and arms locked, just breathing. She’s got no idea of when she woke up in the first place, so it could be hours or maybe just ten minutes when the door suddenly swings open and Piper finds herself  _jolting_ , nearly jumping off the couch,  _oh god oh god they’ve found me, they’ve found me and they’re gonna finish what they started_   —

But instead, a small brown-haired head peers in through the doorway, and childlike eyes widen and bright, grin spreading wide, and then footsteps come racing up to her and — suddenly Piper has a lapful of Nat.

“Piper! You’re up! Finally!” Nat exclaims, grin brighter than the sun and freckles across pale cheeks, and past the initial heart attack, Piper finds affection pulsing strong and warm in her chest, alongside a snake-tint of  _guilt_  because Nat’s latched onto her like a vice, as if she was afraid Piper  _wouldn’t_  wake up. Or couldn’t.

She tucks the guilt back into her heart and focuses instead on her sister, hugging her right back, screw the ache it causes in her side from a still-healing injury. Nat has her schoolbag still hanging over her shoulders — a faded, dirty yellow thing that Piper guesses is supposed to look like a sunflower — and she’s tracked some dirt inside, but at this point, Piper couldn’t care less. Cleanliness can come later. Family is always a priority.

“What, you think I’d leave you to the paper all by yourself?” Piper grins, once Nat loosens her grip and parts to look at her. She smooshes Nat’s cheeks and then ruffles Nat’s hair, and she smiles at her little sister’s grin, even as Nat tells her to cut it out. “I know you’re excited,  but you’ve still got a long way to go before that happens, kiddo. Not getting rid of me  _that_  easy.”

“Bet I could run that paper twice as good as you.” Nat challenges, grinning defiantly, and Piper pretends her own grin doesn’t harden a little at that.

“Sure, and I’m McDonough’s citizen of the year.” Piper smirks. “Just finished classes?”

“Mmhm. We got to visit the Science Center and paired up to dissect stingwings, I got to partner with — “

“Piper!” Comes a voice from the door, and another familiar face comes peeking through, almost shy, and  _oops, right, the door’s still open._  “You — I mean, you’re awake!”

Nina Rodriguez is still a shy critter even after all these years of knowing her (it took a year to get her to stop calling Piper ma’am, it made her feel way too  _old_ ) and even now, hovering anxiously at the doorway, it makes Piper smile more than be embarrassed over the fact Nina’s watching her like this. Makes her wonder if Nina’s been concerned about her, or just over Nat. Best friends after all, Piper wouldn’t blame her.

“You can come in, y’know.” Piper calls, and Nina almost jumps at her speaking up. “You can stay around and hang out with Nat if you want to. It won’t bother me.”

“It’s fine, Piper. Nina has to help me with some shopping anyway.” Comes a  _third_  voice from the door, and this one  _does_  make Piper stop and stare.

And turn bright, bright red.

Because she’s sitting on her ratty couch, in a house she hasn’t taken the time to clean up since  _last year_ , injured and still sick-looking and greasy haired and stained old tee and sweatpants packed with more holes than a firing range —  

And  _Arturo friggin’ Rodriguez_  is standing at her door, smiling like she  _doesn’t_  look like she came out through the ass-end of a brahmin, and  _oh no he’s waiting for me to answer ahhh._

He leans against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, smiling at her in a way she can almost swear is shyly if she didn’t know she’s got a history of projecting. 

 _Look at those arms_ , her mind says sweetly, and then her brain doesn’t brain for a few moments after, eyes wide and cheeks  _heated_  and god, okay, yeah, she’s definitely blushing, she needs to say something  _right now_  before it gets awkward but her head is only going  _aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa_  and her mouth is only going  _guh_  and oh crap, oh crap, the silence has gone on way too long —

“Thanks for comin’ by, Mr Rodriguez, but I think Piper’s gonna be okay after this.” Nat pipes up right at the brink of no return, and Piper closes her eyes and nearly breaks down in a billion  _thank yous_. She’ll have to owe Nat snack cakes for  _life_.

“I’m very, very glad.” Arturo responds, laughter in his voice and a hand moving to rub the back of his neck, and there’s...  _Relief_  in there, and when he focuses his gaze on her she can almost pretend he looks a little flushed too, smiling warm and making something inside her melt into gooey cliches. “Glad you turned the corner. Take care of yourself, alright? It’s good to have you back.”

“I — uh, I am — I am glad. To be back! I’m glad to be back.” Piper scrambles for words, voice awkwardly teetering between too soft and too loud and everything that comes out of her mouth must die right now immediately.

_Is this how Travis feels? Like, all the time? How is he even alive —_

“Papa, are we going?” Nina asks, grabbing the sleeve of Arturo’s grease-stained plaid shirt, and Arturo looks down at her, nodding, before raising a hand in a wave. 

“We’ll see you girls later. Take care of your sister, Natalie!”

“I always do!” Nat calls back, beaming bright, and Piper wants to bury her face between the cracks of her couch’s cushions and maybe see how long she can do that for people to forget she exists. She waits, at least, very calmly for the sound of the door to shut before she lets out the world’s longest, ugly groan, thunking her head against Nat’s small shoulder.

“Why didn’t you  _tell_  me Arturo was coming over??” Piper complains.

Nat lets a little snort out, and lightly raps her knuckles against the side of her sister’s head. “What’s the big deal? He’s been coming over like, every day since you came back.”

Piper lifts her head so fast she almost clocks her sister in the jaw, eyes wide and mortified.  _Arturo’s been here?_  She wants to shout,  _he’s seen me like this, what, what, was he the one to_  —

“Chill out, Piper, it’s not like he  _changed_  you or anything. Gross!” Nat exclaims, watching the look on Piper’s face, pulling her own. “But  _I_ can’t carry you all the way in here, and I used up all our emergency money on Miss Carla, and — “

“You made him  _pay_ for my care???” Piper  _whines_ , and yeah, okay, she’s making this a big deal but only because it  _is_ , “Nat, did you make him pay for Sun to come here??”

“He offered!” Nat protests, brows furrowed, looking petulant for all of a second before the look quickly dissolves into —  into  _worry_ , into  _guilt_ , and then Nat’s voice goes lower, quieter, almost... scared. “I — I didn’t know what else to do, you came in knocked out on a brahmin and then you  _fell_  and there was, you hit your head on the pavement and there was  _blood_  all down your face and I didn’t know what to do and we didn’t have enough caps to pay miss Carla and Doc Sun both and — “

The defensive, scared rambling leaves a gutpunch of guilt so strong inside Piper it almost  _winds_  her, and whatever teenage mortification from earlier quickly dies down, making her frown, making her so —so  _ashamed_  of herself for a whole new reason. She — she’s all the family Nat has left. She remembers how it felt, back when they were younger, and their dad came home injured or in pain and it was nerve wracking. And now Nat has to deal with that all on her own.

Or at least, would be, if it weren’t for Arturo and Nina.

“Hey, hey, kiddo. It’s okay.” Piper interrupts Nat’s rambling, her heart just can’t  _take_  it when Nat looks up and those eyes are watering and  _no, no, please don’t cry_ , and she fixes her warmest smile when she wipes away the tears with her thumb. “You did the right thing. Arturo’s a grown up, right? I’ll make it up to him myself. I’m sorry I freaked out on you.”

Nat gives a wet little sniffle, and then punches Piper’s shoulder lightly. “You gotta thank him. And miss Carla. I thought — I thought you weren’t comin’ home.”

And her heart clenches enough it sends an ache, radiating from her chest down to her body,  _shame_  in her core, but she shoves it down enough to abruptly stand and swing Nat upwards, the girl letting out a surprised, delighted peal of laughter. It makes her sides ache something fierce, but watching Nat laugh is more than enough to make it worth it, and Piper settles Nat in her arms, carrying her, like she used to a few years before, though Nat  _definitely_  weighs a whole lot more these days.

“Whoof, sis. You’re growing up  _way_  too fast,” Piper grins, “But you’re not getting rid of me yet!”

“Piper, stop! I’m not five anymore!” Nat protests, though the giggle in her voice and the brightness in her eyes betrays her. “You’re gonna break your arms like this and then you’ll be sorry!”

“Then I guess I’ll have to pay for stims using next month’s allowance.  _Your_  allowance.” Piper says in a sing-song voice, and laughs hard enough to snort when Nat swats her on the shoulder and goes  _no!_

When she sits back down, she makes Nat talk all about what she’s missed when she was gone. All the gossip, everything she’s learnt in school, all the odd jobs she’s been doing. In truth, Piper knows she’s got things to do — an article to write, for sure, and devising  _some_  kind of strategy plan for how to plan out their budget for the next month — but to heck with it. Being a reporter — she can hang up that mantle, at least for the time being. Focus instead of being a good big sister, because Nat’s already excelling in being a younger one, and she can’t lose out  _now._

Tonight she’ll bring them out, grab some Dugout food. She’ll have to rummage through her things, see what she can scrape some caps from, but it doesn’t matter. She and Nat both deserve a hot meal today, a little Diamond City comfort.

After everything that’s happened, it’s good to be home.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a couple more days before she feels alright enough to start walking around again. Granted, she spends most of her time outside anyway, sitting around reading draftwork outside on the porch, striking up conversation with Pastor Clements, sometimes even waving at Doc Sun (and sometimes he even  _acknowledges_  her, holy geez) not quite well enough to go traipsing around Diamond City like usual, but feeling too restless to stay in bed while Nat goes to school and disappears for a few hours.

( Because Piper knows she hasn’t been getting enough sleep, at night. The dark, every slight noise outside — it makes her panic, jumpy,  _afraid_  that the doors will suddenly break down or a dozen arms will sprout from under her mattress, pull her down, force her mouth open and glowing  _poison_  down her throat while she struggles to stay alive, and, well.

At least when she falls asleep outside after a night of barely blinking, Pastor Clements is nice enough to make sure no one bothers her. )

And... Nat’s home more often these days too. Swings back home to Publick Occurrences right after classes instead of hanging around the other kids, doing her homework right at the coffee table instead of in her little corner, talking all about what they’ve been up to in classes. Piper notices, of course —  _guh doy_ , it’s her  _job_  to notice these things — and she knows why. Leaves a trace of  _guilt_  all the way down her spine and knotting her stomach, every single time, but she doesn’t mention it.

( _One second too late and Nat could’a gone without a family_ , Piper thinks, more and more these days.  _One second too late and I could’ve left her alone for good_.

She tries not to think too hard, these days. )

This afternoon isn’t any different, except for the fact that she’s foregone heading to sit out on the porch today. Summer’s rolling fast and hard down over the ‘Wealth and while Piper’s grateful for the protection of the wall or whatever, it’s essentially turned the cramp lil’ city into a heat basin, sun beating down and cooking everyone inside. No one’s walking out in the streets right now except for the particularly stubborn or hardy, and even some of the shopkeeps have closed up for the afternoon, unwilling to deal with the scorching sun at its peak.

Heck, even  _inside_  Publick Occurrences she’s feeling warm. She’s taken over the couch, leaning forward with her elbows propped on her knees because leaning back against the leather makes her back feel overheated, sweat beading her nose and occasionally dripping onto the notepad she’s got on hand. Nat’s on the floor beside her, cross legged and working on some sort of math homework that Piper  _definitely_  doesn’t want any part in. Nat’s barefooted in just a tee shirt and shorts, Piper’s only wearing pants and a faded grey tee, they have a total of three desk fans blowing at them, but it’s  _still_  not enough.

The worst part, though, is the fact that the heat is  _distracting_. It’s hard to focus when it’s so warm out that she swears she can almost see the heatwaves floating off of everything, and she spends a good hour writing a grand total of three lines in her notepad (drafting out the outline for a new article, something about the not-so-secret courtship of one Mr Zwicky and Miss  _Edna_ , of all things, and definitely not because she can’t deal with writing about Bunker Hill just yet).

“ _Augh_ ,” she groans, for about the sixteenth time in the past hour, and she earns an elbow in the knee from Nat for it.

“Shut up, Piper, I’m trying to do my homework.” Nat scowls, not looking back at her sister, and Piper leans over to see that Nat  _does_  have a solid page of equations already done. Huh.

 _At least one of us can focus,_  Piper wants to say, but she decides to reel it in and just try to focus back on her work. It’s a cute story — she’s seen the longing looks Mr Zwicky’s been giving his particularly metal-exteriored assistant for ages now, and like, okay, it’s a  _little_  weird, but it’s also not the worst thing around. It’s not harming anyone, and listening to Edna gush about him when Piper comes around to fetch Nat — it’s actually  _really_  adorable, and Diamond City needs a nice dose of fluffy feelings after a season of more kidnappings and Commonwealth heat.

She gets a fantastic two more lines done within the space of the next twenty minutes before she’s jolted out of her heat-dazed thoughts by Nat suddenly muttering “Oh, crap.”

“Language, Nat.” Piper frowns, looking over. “What’s up?”

Nat looks over her shoulder, frowning right back, sweat tacking her brown hair to her temples. “No, but I just remembered that I left my notebook with Nina. I need it to finish this thing and it’s due tomorrow.”

“Uh, okay? Run over and get it then.” Piper raises a brow. “She’s probably home.”

“But it’s  _hot_ ,” and now it’s Nat’s turn to whine, “And I’m really close to finishing this worksheet. ... Please?”

Piper blinks.

“So, what, you want  _me_  to go get it?” She groans. “It’s hot out for me too, y’know, and I  _just_  got better.”

“Doc Sun says a little sunshine is good for you.” Nat counters, looking too smart for her own good, “And at least you’ll get a chance to see her dad.”

 _Oh_ , Piper thinks, eyes going wide and face growing red,  _ohhh no, I see what you’re up to_.

“Nat!” She exclaims, more flustered than she’s happy with, and Nat rolls her eyes hard.

“Come  _on_ , Piper, everyone knows by now. You’re not subtle, y’know.” Nat points out in a matter-of-fact sort of way that  _horrifies_  her because oh, geez, is she serious? How obvious has she been, does  _Arturo_  know — “ _And_  if you see him, you still owe him a thank you. He did help us out. The day after tomorrow he’s gonna be away until the weekend you know, going down to Goodneighbour, so — “

Piper  _groans_ , half relieved and half annoyed. Half because she really doesn’t want to head out into Diamond City heat, and half because Nat’s  _right_.  _He helped take care of you while you were down,_ that part inside her says. The part that says  _he paid for your care, and you haven’t even thanked him_. Damn her, and her good manners.  _Damn you, Nat, you and your smart mouth._

But then again, he’s only leaving the day after tomorrow, so she can always wait  _until_  tomorrow, or until he’s back from Goodn —

“Piper, if you don’t do it, I’m gonna go outside and yell until he comes here.” Nat fixes her with a deadpan stare. Piper flinches, and then throws her hands up in the air.

“Okay,  _fine._  Fine! I’ll get your notebook for you. But only because I’m grabbing supplies.  _And_  you’re in charge of boiling the bathwater for a week.” Piper finally concedes, standing, notepad down on the table. “And I’ve got good manners.”

Nat rolls her eyes again, hard enough that it looks like it hurts, and she’s turning back to her homework. “Ugh,  _fine_ , just go already!”

Like a grown adult, she  _definitely_  doesn’t mock Nat’s voice under her breath while she fixes her ponytail into something resembling less of a mess and grabs a small pouch of caps off of one of the barrel-stands. Percy should probably be out at the general store, and she figures she can probably snag a half-pack of cigs for a cheaper price since  _Myrna_  definitely won’t cut her a deal. Besides, Nat’s right — Piper hasn’t been doing the shopping for a few weeks now and they still have to eat.

Ooh, she  _hates_  it when Nat is right.

Opening up the door sends a wave of  _heat_  to her face, and Piper winces as she steps outside, already feeling her sweat tacking her shirt to her body. The place is pretty much empty for the afternoon, Takahashi’s stall basically abandoned — no one’s gonna want to walk around in this kind of heat except for the odd few wasters passing through, and even the Diamond City guards are settled back in shadowed spots, trying to avoid the direct battering of the sun. It’s a wonder none of them have collapsed yet, what with all the armour they wear. Piper’s got no real love for security that doesn’t really  _do_  anything (and she’s not popular there anyway) but she can’t help but feel pity, walking by them, sweltering in the heat.  _Don’t lock your knees, boys._

Just  _walking_  out to the marketplace makes her feel overheated. Almost all the stalls are closed — Moe Cronin and Doc Sun both retiring to their dens, Solomon already gone, Polly in the distance closing up shop and putting away the meat before it spoils in the Commonwealth sun. The only inhabitants of Diamond City that’re out right now are those of the robotic variety  — the eyebot is still spinning around town crooning  _Pistol Packin’ Mama_ , and Takahashi’s standing dutifully at the Power Noodles stand. This month’s ingredients seem to be radstag bits and tato chunks, which are  _delicious_. Now if Piper could just figure out who changes his recipes every month and stocks the ingredients,  _that’d_  be a headline.

“Stay strong, Taka.” She offers sympathetically, passing by. “You’ll get customers by tonight.”

“Nan-ni shimasho ka?”

“Nah, but thanks, pal.”

She can hear Percy too, right around the bend, calling out loudly for customers who aren’t actually here to  _hear_  him.  _Poor guy_ , she thinks, wiping sweat from her brow,  _least I’ll be around later._  And beyond that —

_Huh. What’s that?_

Her brows furrow as she walks closer to the bend. There’s the distinctive sound of something banging against metal, hammering — it’s like someone’s working the workbench.

 _In this heat?_  She wonders, her feet carrying her forward, the end of her ponytail brushing and sticking to the sweat-damp skin of her back. The only people she can think of who would be willing to do  _work_ , of all things, out in this kind of weather would probably be like. Diamond City security or something. Maybe Abbott, stubborn old geezer he is (and she means that with the utmost affection,  _really_ ) or maybe one of the passing scavvers and wasters, or —

Her mouth goes dry.

Dark hair. Golden afternoon sunlight glinting off of tanned, sweat-slick skin. Stained white tank top showing off every minute movement of muscles, shoulders moving as a hammer repeatedly hits...  _something_  on the workbench. Dark green eyes, mouth pursed in concentration. Unfairly toned arms and the flex of biceps when the hammer lifts and comes back down and  _dear god_  Piper will happily set her print machine on fire  _right now_  to feel them.

 _Arturo_ , her mind finally auto-completes, and she’s rooted to the spot in  _horror_  and embarrassment and lust when green eyes flicker up and he finally notices her there.  _Oh no_.

“Piper!” He says, surprised, and oh, god, his cheeks are darkening and it’s probably because it takes a  _supreme_  feat of willpower to tear her eyes away from his shoulderblades and there’s  _no way_  he didn’t see that.

Oh god she should be responding shouldn’t she. Uh.  _Uh_. 

“H — hey!” She answers weakly, waving a little, feeling sweat drip down her chin.  _If I run right now and duck a corner, I can drown myself in Sheng’s pond and then I won’t have to talk to him ever again. Good plan, Piper, solid plan_.

“I — I’m surprised to see you out here.” He answers, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly before frowning a little at the sweat and rubbing it on his shirt.

"Oh, yeah,” she half-laughs, awkward and flustered and dying, “It’s pretty warm today, huh!”

_It’s ‘pretty warm today’? Are you friggin’ serious, Wright???_

But at least it seems to sail pretty smooth over to Arturo, and she prays he thinks of it as just her being a comedy goldmine and not a walking disaster. At least he  _laughs_ , goodnaturedly and sunny (and almosty shyly but she has to be projecting, just projecting) and it makes her relax a little, moving forward just a hair so she gets caught in the shade of the Power Noodles stand and not burning up to a crisp under the sun. Moving closer also gets her a peek of what he’s working on — a gun?

He probably notices her looking, gaze flickering back to his work and then back at her, before immediately waving his hands a little.

“Ahh, I’m sorry, I must’ve been making some noise.” He laughs apologetically. His smile is friggin’  _unfair_. “Someone messed with one of my guns. I... Am not sure who, but I figured I’d take the afternoon off to fix it. Too hot for trading anyway.”

“Well, there are worse things to do in this heat.” Piper offers, before looking a little closer and squinting. Yeah, the barrel of the gun is wonky. Makes her frown. Who would want to tamper with Arturo’s guns? He’s like... The nicest guy in town, second only to Nick literal-Commonwealth-angel Valentine. “Got any idea who did it?”

“Not much.” Arturo shakes his head, before blinking. “Ah, no, you don’t have to worry about it. I doubt it was an act of sabotage. Accidents happen.”

 _How do you ‘accidentally’ mess up the barrel of a gun?_  Her nosey little mind immediately wiggles in, and as soon as she registers it, she shuts it up before it goes any further. Scowls to herself. Typical. The second she smells  _anything_  that seems interesting, she barges her way in.  _This is why people don’t like you, you brahmin’s ass._

She... maybe takes too long frowning and staring at nothing (like a friggin’  _weirdo_ ) because the next thing she knows, Arturo is taking a step forward, looking concerned.

“Piper? Was there something you needed?” He asks, worry tingeing his voice. “It isn’t wise for you to be out in the heat like this. You only just got better.”

Her cheeks flush  _red_  and something in her chest sprouts fond and  _frustrated_. How dare Arturo Rodriguez be this nice. It should be illegal. “No, no, I’m fine! Just — I just came here because, um, Nat said she left something with Nina? Her notes, I think? And she won’t get off her lazy tush to get it, so,  _ha_ , she sends her big sister to go get it instead, since I, uh, had to trade with percy anyway.”

He smiles, and Piper’s relieved.  _At least he thinks I’m funny. He’s wrong, but hey, who’s around to correct him?_

“I’ll call her outside, see if she has it.” Arturo says amicably, walking back the short distance to his shophouse, knocking on the door and then calling for Nina, followed by a string of spanish Piper can’t decipher. A second or two later, the door swings open, and a familiar head pops out, looking quizzically around before landing on Piper.

“Notes? What n — “ Nina asks, looking just as warm as the rest of them in her sundress, before a flash of  _recognition_  goes off behind her eyes. “Oh, oh! Yeah, of course, I’ll go get them  — “

And then she’s off like a shot, and the inner nosey reporter in Piper frowns at the look in Nina’s eyes. What  _was_  that? A glance at Arturo shows he’s wondering the same thing, and he only shrugs helplessly at her. Well. At least she knows she’s not the only one clueless about it. Five minutes later and there’s the sound of footsteps again, and Nina emerges holding up a thick notebook,  _Natalie Wright_  scrawled in black marker across the front. She looks like she’s about to be spooked any second, and she practically thrusts the notebook into Piper’s hands.

“Um, I’m glad you feel better miss Piper! Get well soon Igottagobye!” Nina pipes up in a rush, and then she’s dashing back inside so fast only her afterimage is left, almost tripping by the workbench, the door slamming shut in her wake.

Arturo frowns, scratching his head as he heads back to the workbench. “I thought I taught her better manners than that.”

“Nah, go easy on her, she’s always been shy around me.” Piper offers, looking down at the notebook. It’s Nat’s, alright. She knows this handwriting anywhere. “Anyway! Uh. Thank you — thanks, for this.”

His gaze flickers back up at her, making eye contact, and something in Piper’s chest  _flutters_  when he smiles at her, warm and sincere and he looks almost  _shy_  about it, cheeks darkening, hands fidgeting a little, looking a bit like he wants to say something but he’s hesitating. A part of her almost wants to  _hope_  about what that could possibly mean — but she squishes down that thought faster than her next breath.

_Not me. Not someone like me._

“It’s no problem.” Arturo says, finally, all kindness and goodness and none of what Piper even deserves, anyway, “And... I really am glad you feel better.”

And Piper could... Go, now.  This seems like just the right time for her to turn around and leave before she inevitably makes a fool out of herself and embarrasses herself anymore. All she has to do is say  _bye!_  And then hurry back home, back into the cooling shade of her metal shack and give Nat’s dumb book back to her —

But another part of her keeps her feet rooted to the ground.

_Just say thank you, you brahmin’s ass. It’s not that hard._

(Oh, but it really, really is.)

“I,” Piper speaks up, half-turned away, hesitant on staying but hesitant on running and looking  _incredibly_  awkward, cheeks flushed. “I wanted to. Uh.”

Arturo pauses, eyes flickering up to look at her. If she looked closer, she might see the questioning  _hope_  in his eyes. Hesitant, but there. “You wanted to?”

 _Oh, just spit it out, Piper._  “I just — I wanted to thank you. For taking care of me?” She finally says, shrugging a little and absolutely not looking at him in the eyes. Anymore of the niceness in them and she might actually die. “Nat says you paid Doc Sun for my treatment, and — listen, I know it’s not cheap, okay? So if you, I don’t know, if you need anything, just tell me and I’ll repay you, or if you need any help proofreading anything — “

He stares, then laughs, at that, lightly, and she turns to look at him waving dismissively at her. “Piper, Piper, stop. You don’t have to pay me back in caps or anything. It really wasn’t a problem.”

She frowns, at that, meeting his eyes as heat still bubbling under her cheeks, running her fingers through her damp hair. “It’s like, 50 caps a stim, and 80 per bag of radaway. I dunno about you, but that’s not exactly cheap.”

“And  _I’m_  not trying to be a show off, but,” Arturo responds, meeting her gaze with a cocked brow and a humble smile, jerking his head to his shop. “I’m the  _only_ proper weapons dealer in this city, and my nearest competitor is an assaultron in Goodneighbour. I mean, I’m certainly not upperstands material, but I’m not hard up for caps either.”

 _Ooh, you’re too nice and I hate it_ , her head groans and absolutely lies, because his generosity is why she’s liked him so much in the first place. And she’s liked him a  _long_  while. Still, though, now that the discussion is in the air, the stubborn streak in her refuses to back down, and she crosses her arms, even though the skin sticks. 

“You still gotta provide for Nina and yourself.” Piper points out, cocking her own brow. “And I know you rented the shophouse, so you’ve still got to pony up for that.”

“And I can still do that with what I have. More than enough, actually. It’s  _fine_ , Piper, you’d have done the same for anyone else in Diamond City.” He replies, easy. All smiles and warm glances. It makes her relent, a little.

“Well, except for the Codmans.” She mutters under her breath, though he evidently hears it, if the bark of laugh that comes from him after is any evidence. At least  _that_  makes her smile, feeling better, uncrossing her arms and shaking her head. “Alright,  _fine_ , fine! You win this time. I won’t pay you back for the stims and the whathaveyou. But I still owe you one, okay? Fair’s fair.”

Arturo laughs again at that, but not in the mean sort of way, and okay, yeah, she  _definitely_  has to be projecting the way his cheeks are a dark, ruddy red, but god if she doesn’t enjoy it. Makes her smile as he shakes his head a little, looking at her almost... Almost  _bashfully_ , hands fidgeting a little, and a part of her wishes it meant something, meant anything about how he felt about h —

“Well, I mean — you already — ahh, I don’t know how you do it.” Arturo suddenly speaks, shaking his head but smiling, not looking at her but cheeks still dark. “You speak so easily.”

 _Not around you I don’t,_  Piper’s mind chimes in unhelpfully, and she mentally elbows herself before putting on the least-embarrassed grin she can muster and shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, I just always know the  _Wright_  thing to say! Ahaha. Ha.”

_Missile launcher. To my face. Please, if anyone out there is listening._

But the smile Arturo gives her after — warm and gentle and something...  _Something_ , in it, it almost takes her breath away. Makes her heart rattle in her chest something  _fierce_  and it’s the kind of look she’s only daydreamed about in her off time, the kind of look she’s entertained stupid, giddy fantasies about like some kind of teenager. The kind of look Piper wishes would  _mean_  something, instead of what she knows is actually there.

But, heck. Being friends with him is more than enough. Wouldn’t ever trade it for something she’s sure she’ll botch up anyway, being the town’s resident outcast and public enemy number two, apparently. She’s made him laugh today, which is great all on it’s own, and it’s more than fine, more than enough, it’s got to be more than eno —

“7:30. Power Noodles?” Arturo’s voice calls out and snaps her back again, and this time she. She’s.

Wait a second.

“What?” Piper echoes, eyes wide.  _What_?

Arturo suddenly seems  _very_  interested in the canopy of the Power Noodles stand, even with his cheeks flushed a ruddy red. “I, well. The Taphouse doesn’t have the most... Friendly patrons, and Scarlett has her day off tomorrow, and I doubt vadim’s cooking will do very well for dinner. The, ah. The stand seems like a nice compromise.”

 _No way, no way._ She feels simultaneously like someone’s thrown a metaphorical wrench into her cognitive function and making her freeze up, and also like her face is on  _literal fire._  

She knows she’s staring, gawping, but she can’t stop herself and the jackhammering of her heart —  because, just, no  _way_ , these things just don’t happen to her. He can’t be. This has to be a joke, or a mistake, or he got snatched by the institute and this is how they get her, because  _no way_  is Arturo Rodriguez asking  _her,_ Piper ‘Noseybones’ Wright, out on a  _date_.

“You mean.” She squeaks, voice cracking more than she’s comfortable with, gesturing awkwardly, face  _burning_  and not just from the sun that’s still blaring down on the both of them, “Dinner? Us?”

This can’t be happening.

Arturo grins at that, looking almost as embarrassed as she is, and when he nods her heart  _explodes_. “Tomorrow, 7:30, right?”

Oh.

 _Oh_ , but it is.

She can feel her face  _crack_  into a grin that almost splits her face in two, without even meaning to, her cheeks burning but too giddy to be able to stop herself. “Y-yeah! 7:30, Power Noodles, tomorrow! I’ll, uh — I’ll catch you here, then?”

“For sure.” He answers, warm and steady and Piper’s heart is clattering around so much in her ribcage she’s either got it really,  _really_  bad or she’s about to have a heart attack and die. “I should — I should, ah, really get back to working on this.”

“Oh — oh! Yeah, I mean, of course!” She immediately answers, cheeks flaring redder than ever, oh  _geez_. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Arturo raises his hand in a half-wave at that as she turns to walk away, the smile on his face looking shyer but wider than she’s seen before (and boy, if Piper isn’t proud of  _that_ ) and it’s a real show of maturity, she thinks, how she manages to calmly walk away until she rounds the noodle stand. If she hops into a run after that, grin ridiculously wide and  _this_  close to whooping and hollering, well. Who can blame her?? Arturo just  _asked her on a date,_  and she’s had a stubborn little crush on him since he first arrived like... Geez, over a year ago, and, and.

She nearly throws the door open in her good mood when she reaches home. Who cares if she’s dripping sweat and overheated?? She could be radiating sunshine out of her ass right now, she feels  _amazing,_ and —

And then her eyes zero in on Nat, sitting at the table, leaning on her palm and giving the  _smuggest_  look Piper has ever seen in her entire life.

It clicks.

“You!” Piper grits out, painfully torn between feeling overjoyed gratitude at the date, and absolute  _frustration_  for being tricked like that, and sort of being just...  Downright impressed at her little sister’s craftiness. She just sort of ends up viciously pointing a finger in Nat’s general direction, struggling to find the words. “ _Youuu_!!”

“Me.” Nat answers in a smug little singsong voice, looking too proud for her own good.

“You left your book there on purpose!”

“Duh. And you got to see Nat’s dad, so we’re even.”

Piper struggles to grasp the right words, trying to find  _something_  to aim back at Nat, but in the end, her initial joy and the fact her sister is painfully, painfully right wins over, and she lets her anger melt away to nothing, shutting the door.

“Touche, sis.” She finally relents, sighing, finally unable to hide her own smile when Nat beams at her genuinely. She wipes at her sweat with the collar of her tee, and then tosses the book to Nat, who catches it easily.

“So did you say anything to him or did you chicken out like always?” Nat asks, leafing through her notebook as Piper comes to sit back on the couch.

She frowns, cheeks hot. “I don’t chicken out.”

Nat turns to look at her. Stares in a deadpan. “The first time he laughed around you, you ran into a pole trying to walk away —”

“You said you wouldn’t bring it up again!” Piper exclaims, horrified, and Nat only laughs, loud and delighted. “Ooh, you’re the  _worst_.”

“You’re welcome!” Nat sings.

“ —  _and_  I didn’t run away, I got your book for you didn’t i?” Piper argues, crossing her arms, trying her best to look mad and thoroughly failing at the memory that immediately follows. Her grin almost hurts. “... And he, uh. Asked me out.”

Now that.  _That_  gets a wholly different reaction. And when Nat swivels around, eyes wide in surprise and disbelief, it takes  _all_  of Piper not to surge back onto her feet at the resurgence of happiness in her own system because  _yeah_ , she can’t believe it either! She’s pretty much halfway sure she’s like, dying or something, and these are the last fleeting dreams of her failing brain, but at this point, she’ll take it.

“Really??” Nat finally asks, getting to her feet. “It w — for real???”

Piper finds herself nodding rapidly, and she can’t contain her grin anymore. “Power Noodles tomorrow night!”

“That’s  _awesome_!” Nat exclaims, delighted, eyes shining. “Now you’ll  _have_  to stick around!”

“like you could get rid of me that easy!” Piper laughs, happiness radiating from her core, and she grabs Nat and tackles her into a hug on the couch, despite Nat’s immediate protests of  _you’re sweaty, ew!_  And the peals of laughter that comes when Piper turns the hug into vicious tickles, fingers at Nat’s sides until she’s almost crying with laughter.

And sure, Piper’s article ends up not getting written the rest of the afternoon, but she’s got a  _date_  with someone she really likes and she ends up spending the afternoon Nat stories, trading laughter and secrets and  _goodness_  between them like she hasn’t really done in ages. Warm inside her, in a way that’s so different from the cold fear that’s wormed into her chest ever since she came back. Right now? Life is good.

( And if she only remembers that she completely forgot to get food and water supplies right before dinnertime, well, at least Nat’s nice enough not to rub it in her face when she has to run out and grab more. )

 

* * *

 

 

"Sis, you’ve got like...  _Zero_  nice clothes.”

Piper scowls, cheeks heated and embarrassed, hands covering up her chest and bare legs crossed. It’s not even so much that she feels shy about being largely undressed in front of Nat — shame doesn’t exist among families out here in the wasteland — but heck if she doesn’t feel  _kind_  of self conscious when she knows she’s being scrutinized like that (though she’s got no doubt Nat’s just trying to figure out what clothes won’t make her look like a ratty scavver on her date tonight and not, like. Actually judging her.)

“Not like I go to a lot of places that warrant a suit and tie, Nat.” Piper points out, huffing, leaning forward, wincing at how she has to  _peel_  herself off the leather couch. Augh. It’s still too warm out, even with the sun down.

“Yeah, but Ms Fallon _likes_ you. She’s got to have  _some_  better clothes she can sell you.” Nat frowns, looking back at Piper. “Piper, you treat our  _printer_  with better stuff.”

“Hey, don’t talk about her like that.” Piper points. “And I’ve got...  _Some_  nice clothes in there! Somewhere.”

Nat rolls her eyes. “I need a shovel.”

“Hey!”

She watches Nat bury herself back into Piper’s meager wardrobe, and Piper just crosses and recrosses her legs. A part of her is almost frustrated about everything, because she’s an adult, damn it, she should be  _more_  than capable of prepping for her own date — holy  _geez_ , she still can’t believe it’s happening, still believes it’s got to be a dream — but to be fair, Nat came home to her pacing around half-nude because she’s spent all day already panicking so hard over her date her brain’s been basically an elongated, suffering fart.

( She’d been considering just wearing her usual, but it’s way too warm out to warrant her red trench coat, and even just touching it these days, it’s —

Too many memories. She’s not ready for that, not yet. )

God, but there’s too many things that could go wrong tonight. It still feels wild, like, being asked out by  _Arturo friggin’ Rodriguez,_  and who’s really going to blame her? He’s charming and funny and kind, absolutely  _nothing_  like Piper or what she deserves, but she’s got dinner with him at Power Noodles. Yeah, she’s had a crush on him for over a year now, but what’s important here is that he’s  _interested_  in her  _back_ , and the idea is still the wildest thing in her head, still feels like make-believe. Like if she goes to sleep and wakes up again, she’ll find out it’s all just a dream.

She could open her big fat mouth at any point and just  _ruin_  it. Or maybe she won’t be able to shut up or hang her reporter’s hat. Or maybe she’ll do something stupid because she’s got the grace of a tranquilized brahmin. Or maybe she’ll — she’ll mess it up  _somehow_ , she’s sure. She’s not like Ellie, who’s basically  _perfect_ , the embodiment of being beautiful and headstrong. She’s not like Scarlett, who’s gentle and funny. She’s not even like  _Polly_ , who’s all rugged charm behind a no-bullshit exterior. She’s... She’s just  _Piper_ , a name that carries a sour taste already around some of the Commonwealth’s folks, and the fact Arturo’s about to go out with the town’s social leper, it’s. Well. Good things just don’t  _happen_  to her like this, and she’s sure she’ll blink and mess up everything.

And then she does blink and gets a wad of cloth thrown at her face.

“You’re thinking too much,  _again_.” Nat rolls her eyes, once Piper swats the cloth off of her, picking it up. “Wear those, they look nice.”

Piper frowns, giving her sister the stink-eye. “I was  _not_  overthinking.”

“You’ve been overthinking since like, last night. You’re so distracted.”

“I’m not distracted.”

“You spent all night pacing and re-editing your articles like fifteen bajillion times.” Nat points out, matter-of-factly, counting on her fingers. “I came home from school and you cleaned the whole house twice over, rearranged the food three times, took apart and put back together the printing machine about double that, and took a bath like, three hours early.”

Piper’s cheeks  _burn_. She decides not to answer that.

( She doesn’t say how she’d prefer staying up late. Because thinking about the date and everything that could go right and wrong — it’s still better, in any measure, than closing her eyes and feeling water at her feet, ropes at her wrists, a dozen arms bruising her flesh and dry hands forcing her jaw open, pouring toxicity and death down her throat and almost drowning her — )

She does, however, pick up the clothes and looks at them. One of it’s her sleeveless black turtleneck, which is — actually a fair choice, since it cuts her figure nicely and it’s not too warm to wear.

The other thing, however, makes her squawk.

“Are you se —  Nat, I can’t  _wear_  these, I haven’t worn them in years!” Piper points out, cheeks  _flaring_  red, holding up the offending garment — worn denim shorts. Which on their own are fine, she doesn’t have a thing against wearing shorts, especially in Diamond City summers — but she also hasn’t worn these in at  _least_  three years, and they’ve got to be way, way too tight or too short these days, and Arturo doesn’t need to see that much skin.  _Raunchy, Wright_.

Nat gestures to them. “They fit  _fine_ , it’s not like you grew any. It’s warm out anyway.”

“They show off way too much leg.” Piper argues weakly.  _Since when does Nat know fashion?_

“They’re  _nice legs_  Piper, you’re  _supposed_  to show them off.” Nat counters, no-nonsense tone completely unfair for a kid her age, and before Piper can even open her mouth to argue again, Nat shakes her head. Gestures towards the nice wall clock they got a few months back. “You can fight me about it or get changed. Either way, you’ve got five minutes.”

Piper’s eyes go  _wide_ , and she double takes the hands on the clock before she’s jumping to her feet and tugging on her clothes and  _oh my god how did time pass so quick_  and  _no no no I’m not ready for this I’m never gonna be ready for this!_

Nat, loving little sister she is, just watches her amusedly from the couch and Piper huffs as she sticks her arms through the holes in her shirt and ties up her hair and yanks the jeans up on herself, cheeks still warm. The shorts are... surprisingly still alright (and Nat wins that point,  _again_ ) and just a little snug. They only just come up around her mid-thigh, but that’s still more thigh than she’s comfy with showing in a date-setting.

“It looks good.” Nat confirms, nodding her affirmation and giving a thumbs up to reaffirm that.

Bath? Check. Clothes? Check. Nerves? Completely  _un_ checked but at least she smells like hubflowers instead of sweaty, nervous anxiety and  _how_  is the clock moving so fast??? Her heart is racing a million times a minute, and as she slips her shoes back on she stares at the passing seconds, feeling dread coil in the pits of her stomach,  _doubly_  so when Nat hops off the couch to start  _shoving_  Piper towards the door, an effort Piper half wants to fight against and half goes along with because she’s almost paralyzed in fear.

“oh my god, I can’t do this.” Piper panics. Half wants to turn around and  _bolt_  back upstairs to hide under her blanket for maybe a decade or two. “I’m gonna mess this up.”

“You won’t.” Nat replies. Shoves  _harder_  and Piper stumbles as Nat opens the door.

“I could!”

“Then don’t.”

“What if he  _hates_  me?”

“He doesn’t.”

“But what if he  _does_?”

“Then he’s stupid.”

Piper’s mouth opens and shuts, sounds failing to come out, and she wants to protest, to argue, to have an excuse to stay behind and  _not_  botch up what Arturo probably hopes to be a romantic evening — but then Nat’s got her out the door while her mind’s floundering, and in a smile Piper can only think of as sickeningly sweet, Nat waves at her.

“Have a good date, sis.” Nat says in a bright tone that leaves no room for arguments, and Piper barely blinks before the door slams shut in her face.

Her back is facing to the open sound of the marketplace, slowly coming to life in the sun’s absence and the dwindling warmth. The night sky is bringing out the stars, and somewhere behind her, Arturo’s probably already waiting.

She swallows hard, and tries to breathe.  _Here goes nothing._

She swivels on her feet, and heads towards the pulsepoint of Diamond City, nerves rattling inside her like loose spoons. Most of the stalls that were closed in the daytime are open again, now — Polly hanging up cuts of meat that a few traders are stopping by to purchase, Solomon already yelling out his Chem-I-Care pitch, people already filling up the limited spaces in Takahashi’s stall. She’s got no doubt shops will be opening later than usual to make up for the quiet afternoon, trying to strike up business while the temperatures are bearable.

 _And Arturo’s got to shut his stall just to go out with you_ , Piper’s traitorous mind coos, and a coil of guilt squeezes at her heart as she makes her way down the wooden planks around Power Noodles. Granted, it’s not even like  _she_  was the one who asked, but, you know.  _Still_. The guy already basically paid for her healthcare while she was out for the count  _and_  babysat Nat — now he’s bringing her for dinner and she feels really, really bad.

Though, at least she can spare some of the guilt in return for feeling  _really_  embarrassed. She’s — she doesn’t usually  _wear_  outfits like these, and already heads are turning. Half of her wants to stand up straight, keep her chin up and puff her chest and  _own_  the outfit — but another part of her is so unused to any attention out here that  _isn’t_  negative that she just sort of falls awkwardly in between, trying to keep so casual she’s pretty sure she’s failing at it.

When she hits Power Noodles, Arturo is nowhere to be seen. The seats are filling up — traders and Diamond City residents alike coming down to dine in the lower nighttime temperatures, and while she can make out more familiar faces like Hawthorne and John the barber laughing and talking with steaming hot bowls of noodles in front of them, she can’t spot Arturo at all. She hovers nervously, and kind of just hopes he doesn’t stand her up because,  _ha_ , that would  _really_  suck, especially since she already looks completely un-casual, hovering around the stall in and outfit she’s never worn before.

She ends up sort of leaning against a nearby wall, trying to blend into the faded pre-war posters tacked onto them. The shorts have the nice benefit of cooling her down, sure — but also when she peers down she just sees a huge expanse of fawn skin, unshaven legs still looking like  _too much leg_  when she bends over a little to check it out. She’s never been one to be super self conscious about the way she looks, but she just — it’s just so different tonight.

And then, because life likes throwing her curveballs and she’s not sure if she should be mortified or relieved — Arturo chooses this  _exact moment_  to make himself known.

“ _Piper_!” Comes his voice, from the other side of Power Noodles, jogging up to her as she turns around with her eyes wide and her cheeks burning so hard she swears she’s about to catch literal  _fire,_ snapping back up into a posture so straight and rigid she hits the back of her head a little on the wall behind her _._ When he actually does catch up to her, he’s almost out of breath, clearly in a rush from wherever he came from, and he looks, he looks, he looks —

He looks so  _good_ , actually. Frustratingly. Wearing that crisp faded-red plaid shirt of his that makes him look five years younger than he actually is, hair mussed in a way that says he was rushing out, forest green eyes bringing out the warm orange-red undertones of his skin and  _oh no_  she’s been staring too long and  _shit_  the way his eyes widen when he sees  _her_  makes her heart feel like it’s spontaneously combusting.  _God help me, if I make it through tonight, I can live through anything_.

“Ah — I’m sorry I’m late, I had to make dinner for Nina. Growing girls need their food after all.” Arturo laughs apologetically. Cheeks turning redder, his eyes flicking over her in a shy, embarrassed way before snapping back up to her face that makes Piper feel incredibly light-headed. And also oddly proud. “You look — you look really nice, Piper.”

She almost forgets to react for a second before she realizes she’s taking  _way_  too long to answer, and then she forces the awkwardest sounding laugh in  _history_ , waving her hand dismissively and probably tato-red.

“I — it’s fine! Just got here myself, saw some friends, you know how that goes — “ she fumbles over her words,  _stupid stupid stupid_ , “So, ha, you know, looks like we’re both right on time.”

Somehow,  _somehow_ , he finds her terrible handle of this entire situation to at least be charming in a way, because he only laughs right back. “I’m glad. Would be terrible manners otherwise.”

“And manners maketh man.” Piper offers hesitantly, and feels just the  _tiniest_  surge of confidence when he nods approvingly. 

 _Okay, you can do this._   _You’ll be fine tonight! Just need to know when to open and shut your trap and everything will be just... smooth sailing. I hope_.

“Well, don’t know about you, but I’m starved.” Piper grins, a little more confidently. “Let’s get to eating before we run out of sitting room. My treat — and don’t you argue with me about that, I ought to get you  _something_  in return.”

Arturo blinks, and then chuckles, hands up. “Alright, alright. You don’t need to mention it twice. Lead the way.”

As it turns out, both of them’s severely underestimated just  _how_  many people are crowding for Takahashi’s now that the sun’s down over the horizon. By the time they spin around, the whole of the Power Noodles stand is filled to bursting, some folks forced to stand at eat as others file away to the benches around the city to sit and talk. As it is, Piper has to almost elbow her way through the mini-wall of people that’s keeping her from filling her stomach, has to raise her voice just so taka can  _hear_  her, and then bringing the noodles over  _to_ Arturo again without spilling them over anyone is another challenge in and of itself.

Arturo, at least, does them both a favour and snags a seat while she’s busy. The seats at the stand are all filled up, so when she manages to squeeze out and away from the stall she catches him sitting on the bench outside of Doc Sun’s place, waving at her, two fresh bottles of beer in hand, probably bought from Myrna. Not a bad thing at all — it’d be way too warm and stuffy to crowd with everyone else around the heat of Power Noodles right now anyway, and at least sitting at the bench gives them a sort of privacy that doesn’t come when you sit elbow to elbow at the stand with other people.

It’s still... incredibly hard to believe that this is happening. To  _her_. But she’s thought of scenarios like this before (and let a girl fantasize, okay, she’s allowed to) and now that she’s here, settling onto the bench beside him, his fingers brushing hers when he takes the bowl from her — there’s a certain  _realness_ , in the way it feels. She’s dreamt about this sort of thing happening for ages now, but not once in all her daydreams did they ever include; the way the edges of his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the almost unnoticeable V of a scar on his throat that the collar of his plaid shirt now frames, the way his knee of his jeans is fondly patched up and lightly smeared with grease. The summer heat, the sweat patching down her back and on his nose, the chatter of Diamond City around them.

She finds that her fantasies have  _nothing_  compared to reality.

The noodles are warm and savoury, the beer is cold and thankfully still bubbly, and the company is some of the best Piper’s had in awhile. They talk on and off throughout the meal, sometimes with mouths half-full and trying not to be gross about it but sometimes laughing too much to not be, hiding grins behind sweaty palms and calloused knuckles. And it’s all so — it’s so  _casual_ , so friendly and warm, it’s as if they’ve hung out for forever instead of just a quick chat in between the daily hubbub.

Piper talks about some of the funnier shenanigans that’s happened to her while doing her reporterly duties — there’s something just unforgettable about escaping a group of angry scavvers with nothing but a brahmin, and then Arturo nearly chokes on his noodles when she talks about the oddly tame feral ghoul she ran into while checking out Croup Manor down by the water.

In return he tells her about his own stories, places, even things from way back when before he started a family  — saving Nina from a momma yao guai after she befriended it’s cub, accidentally stealing from a bar and needing to dodge bottles, meeting a wandering trader who had an absurd amount of Jangles the Moon Monkey toys.

It’s good. Better than good, it’s  _great_ , and by the time they finish their meal, darkness has officially come down over the Commonwealth but Diamond City is vibrant and alive. There’s muffled music coming from the Dugout — no doubt Vadim’s shoved in another of Magnolia’s tapes and is playing it as loud as he can — and the marketplace is now full of people, doing business while they’re free from the scalding sun for awhile, folks mingling and talking and just  _being_. 

In the distance she can make out Abbott and Moe arguing about something over a beer. Myrna making a trade with one of the wasters passing by for the night and giving them her classic dirty eye. Farther along she can just make out Ellie and Colette Cooke arm in arm, being so sweet on each other that it makes even Piper feel warm and fluffy inside. Even a few of the upperstanders have come down to mingle with the common folk, talking and trading. Everyone just being together, just existing in this same space... It only reminds Piper of all the reasons she decided to stay and make her home here in the first place.

(She tries not to think too hard about how she came so close to never coming home at all.)

“All this time I thought you were just another ol’ weapons dealer.” Piper grins, after she’s done, putting her now-empty bowl in her lap. “Turns out you were holding out on me, huh?”

Arturo laughs, and it’s bright and warm enough to make her own cheeks hurt. “Oh, please, I doubt even the best of my experiences can compare to the things you’ve found out there.”

“Oh- _ho_ , I haven’t even told you the  _best_  stories yet. Some of them even involve things  _not_  trying to kill me!” She replies with sarcastic pep, and he grins at her while she snorts and shakes her head. “You want a real story? If I could find out whoever keeps stocking Takahashi with these new ingredients every month and switching out his recipe.  _That’_ ll make a headline.”

“I’d buy out your paper if you found  _that_  mystery out.” Arturo agrees, cracking his knuckles a little. “Maybe Percy knows. Always up.”

“If he does, he’s not giving anything up to  _me_. And don’t think I haven’t tried.” Piper replies, taking his bowl and putting it aside with her own. Picks up her beer and takes a swig of it, slowly warming in the humid night.  _Breathes_ , and feels herself... relax. It’s a good feeling, to be so  _content_  for the first time in a long, long while, she hasn’t had the chance to kick back like this in... months, now.

It’s good. And when Arturo picks up his own beer, his thigh comes close enough to touch her own, and she feels warmth trickling between the cracks of her ribs.

“You know,” Arturo suddenly speaks, after awhile, and when she turns to look at him she swears his cheeks look darker even in the dim of the night, “I’m really glad we decided to do this.”

Her heart skips a beat, and when his eyes flicker to look at her she can’t meet them, suddenly shy all over again. Laughing, awkwardly, but not insincerely. “I — yeah, I’m glad too. Though I owe you a whole lot more than just some noodles.”

“Piper, this is the first night in  _ages_  that I’ve had the time to just. Sit back and shoot the breeze. You know?” Arturo replies, and when Piper turns to look at him this time he’s definitely grinning at her, and she finds her own smile stretching without meaning to. “Good food, good beer, better company. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

Her cheeks are warm, but it’s all good, and she nudges him with her shoulder a little. “Geez. You always this much of a smoothtalker? We should trade jobs, I think people will like you more.”

He  _laughs_. “Oh, I don’t think I have the stones for a job like yours. Think I’ll stick with polishing guns. Besides, I have my own side jobs to do.” He points out, smiling. “But, honestly. I really  _am_  enjoying the night. I’m... really glad I got your note.”

Piper grins, feeling good energy thrumming through her system, and — wait.

“Note?” Piper half-laughs, confused. “What note?”

Arturo’s brows cock up, and he half-smiles at her just as confusedly. “The note you left? At my stall? I think two days ago.”

 _Two days ago? What?_  She racks her brains, searching for clues for  _something_  she apparently did. Ultimately, she comes out emptyhanded, and more confused than before. Heck, she’s pretty sure she didn’t even come out of her home two days back. She was too busy fixing up the printer, elbow-deep into the thing all afternoon trying to clear out some globs of ink that got caught up in the gears after a leak. When she says as much to Arturo, he frowns, questioning.

“I... That can’t be right.” Arturo says slowly, hand moving to the breast pocket of his flannel, pulling out a piece of what’s  _definitely_  her notebook paper. “I found this sitting on my countertop two days ago. It’s signed off from you.”

 _Oh boy, here we go. Another hate campaign against Piper Wright._  She groans internally in her head automatically, wincing already as she reaches for the notepad paper. 

She knows it might not be necessarily  _hate_ , if it’s lead to something like this, but. This isn’t the first time people have written things and used her name to smear her reputation. At this point she figures she should just keep a tally, the numbers would impress anyone else. And this person even got her  _notepad_  paper, which is an accomplishment in itself since she never lets it out of her sight. No one else in Diamond City uses the notepad she has — it’s small and yellow and has a delicate little pattern at the bottom of every page. Also, she has about forty of them, because she came across a box of them during one of her investigative runs two years back, and she’s been using them ever since.

Well, maybe someone found another box of them or something. Makes her wonder who she’s pissed off  _this_  time. But she’s not exactly sure  _how_  this all relates to her date, and she has to shift to the side to avoid the crowd and  squint under the Diamond City lights to really see the writing, but then she does manage to and.

It’s like watching a fog clear on a water’s edge.

_Arturo,_

_You really did me a solid, back there. I really, really owe you one, I’m serious! Dinner with me, my treat? 7:30, two days from now? You pick the place, I’ll get back to you._

_Piper Wright._

She knows this writing.

Oh, she knows this handwriting  _anywhere_.

The pieces fall in and click in place, and Piper pinches the bridge of her nose. Of  _course_  it’s using her notepad paper. It literally  _is_  from her actual notepad.

_Ooh, I’m gonna kill you when I get home._

“Nat.” She grits out, and Arturo raises a brow quizzically. She feels... embarassment, flooding back to her, alongside anger. “It’s — Nat, she was trying to set me up, and ten caps says she ducked by with Nina to slip it at your stall.”

Something seems to click in Arturo’s head too. “My gun. Nina, she must have— “

“ — and Nat left her notebook there on purpose and shoved me out so I’d see you.” Her cheeks are burning, but for a whole different reason. Of  _course_  her sister would go meddling in her personal life like this.

It’s... it’s such a  _Wright_  thing to do. Piper’d almost be proud of her, if she weren’t so miffed.

“And then I just blurted out a time and place without even asking whether you  _wanted_  to go.” Arturo suddenly speaks, breaking the furious look she’s casting the door to Publick Occurrences, and she snaps back to look at him. “I just assumed it was really you, had always thought, never dared — Piper, are you just here because you feel like you owe me? Is that why you agreed?”

Piper just... stares. Eyes wide, mind unable to process what he’s saying.  _Had always thought?_  “What?”

Arturo visibly wilts. Shakes his head and hurries to stand. He looks... ashamed.

“Well, I suppose that answers that — I’m very sorry about all this, I just  _assumed_ and — this is very embarrassing — “ Arturo says, very much  _not_  meeting her eyes, gathering up their used bowls and his half empty bottle of beer. He looks mortified. She almost doesn’t know how to react. “I should probably head home, need to give Nina a very firm talking to, I — “

And then the situation finally  _clicks_  in her head, and of  _course_  he thinks she’s just doing this out of obligation or pity, what with the way she’s been acting and the friggin’  _note_  and he’s walking away. He’s walking away and she finds herself staring after him in a panic.  _No no no no no, this is not how this night is going to end, c’mon Piper think of something, c’mon Piper_ —

She ends up shooting off her seat and going after him (which isn’t really that far, he’s barely taken three steps away, but it’s the effort that counts) and putting a hand on his shoulder, making him swivel around to look at her.

“I — I really  _did_  want to do this.” She struggles to say, once he  _is_  looking at her. Words not functioning right.  _Damn it, brain_. “I wanted to do this.”

He looks thoroughly unconvinced. Smiles, in a self depreciating way that makes her almost feel sick. “Piper, you don’t have to make me feel better. You — you’re a very good person, you know? But besides, i really should go talk to Nina — “

He’s not  _getting it_ , and her mind is drawing blanks on smart things to say to save the situation, so she ends up shutting that down and blurting the first thing that comes to mind, which happens to be —

“ — I really,  _really_  like you.” The words burst from Piper’s mouth, and she feels the heat scrambling up the back of her neck. And then the words can’t  _stop_ , “For, like. A really long time. A really,  _really_  long time and, hoo,  _wow_ , doesn’t that just sound like the saddest thing — but uh, I was really happy when you asked me out? I mean, you can ask Nat, I was dancing around like a  _loser_ , ha — and tonight, I mean, this was a date, right? This still counts as a date? Unless, oh geez, unless this was a friend thing all along, in which case, great! But also I’m really sorry, I guess I just blurted all  _that_  out, now that’s embarrassing, okay, I should — “

“ — Piper, Piper, calm down.” Arturo interrupts her,  _thank god_ , laughing, and when she wrenches her eyes away from the ground his eyes are smiling again and relief makes something in her chest loosen. “I mean. I wanted it to be.”

Her voice seems to have a real thing of getting caught in her throat tonight, wow. “Wanted it to be?”

He touches the back of his neck. Piper’s pulse flutters. “A date. I mean... if you’d like it to be... ?”

He looks so  _shy_. She thinks her pulse is going to rupture her blood vessels.

“Uh — I mean, yeah! Of course, wh — why wouldn’t I want it to, after all I just — “ Piper perks up, eyes wide and face red but her heart feeling a million times lighter, before she gives up on forcing her mind to do her any good and she waves the rest of her words away, finally just giving in to relieved laughter. “I mean. Yeah. So, like, we’re on the same level now, right? We’re good?”

“Yeah — we’re good.” Arturo agrees, melting into a grin, sounding relieved himself. “No more misunderstandings, no matter how... pleasant, they work themselves out to be. Though I still should talk to Nina.”

Piper looks up, still running on her high, raising a brow. “About meddling?”

Arturo looks surprised. “What? Well, yes, but also for messing around with my guns. She could’ve gotten hurt.” And then, “Nat?”

“Oh,  _so_  grounded.” Piper snorts. “Does a month sound fair to you?”

“More than, though we should at least thank them for their efforts.” Arturo’s eyes twinkle. “Now, I mean. Should we still, ah. I mean. We already ate, so.”

He’s already half turned away, the bowls still in his hands, and Piper almost doesn’t really know what to say up until she sees the hesitance in his own eyes. Thinks about just a few minutes before — laughing, talking, having fun, relaxing in a way she hasn’t really  _been_  since she’d gotten back from the little Bunker Hill ordeal, and.

She realizes, very quickly, that she doesn’t want the night to end just yet.

 _C’mon, Piper,_  she peps herself up,  _you can survive raider gangs, mutie camps, and the friggin’ children of atom with nothing but the clothes on your back. You can do this_.

(Then again, it’s way easier to deal with a gunshot wound than if she botches this up and breaks her own heart. Now if that isn’t a rude awakening, huh?)

“I... might know of a nice place.” Piper speaks up, watches his eyes flicker back to her. Summons as much confidence as she can, and tries again, smiling this time. “I promise, it’s a good spot. ... That is, if you’re up for it?”

Her voice embarrassingly cracks at the last question, but Arturo looks at her for a beat, then two, and then his face cracks into a smile so fond she doesn’t know what to do about it, “Can’t think of anything I’d like more.”

Her face hurts from smiling.

 

* * *

 

 

“Piper, what —” Arturo laughs, and she hears him scuffling behind her, climbing up the concrete with her, and she grins.

There’s adrenaline, now, coursing through her, bravery that came out of nowhere after successfully passing whatever speech check she had to to get him to stick around — and it’s great, now, as she climbs up the stands fenced off from the rest of the city. She knows this place like the back of her hand, at this point — when your life is as wild as hers can get, she’s found quickly enough to hold her hidey-holes near and dear and sacred, and it’s a thrilling feeling to bring someone else with her, this time around. The only other person who knows about it is Nat.

She almost feels like a teenager all over again, sneaking away from the farm to get up to no good with Shelly Tiller, making out behind dilapidated pre-war houses, except this time she’s older and wiser and  _oh god_  the thought of kissing Arturo is enough to make her brain cease reasonable function for all of a minute, nearly makes her slip up a step before she pushes on.

The climb isn’t even nearly so bad, really — the only real pain is helping Arturo over the fence, but that’s only because he’d insisted on buying more drinks at Myrna’s before following her and now he has to balance a small cardboard box’s worth of gwinett pilsner. They make it over though, and when she reaches her spot, a cozy little part in the stands with no chairs but a single ashtray that’s already overflowing (courtesy of herself, of course) she plops down, doesn’t care about cold hard concrete, and looks back out towards the city.

“Ta dah.” She breathes out, staring out, before turning back to him and flashing him a genuine grin.

The city’s stretched out before them. A beacon of glittering, shining lights amidst the dark summer’s night, twinkling warm, people looking so much smaller from up here but moving around to a rhythm she can’t hear. Up here in the stands, no one can see them — here, they’re completely alone, complete privacy, and the sight never fails to make her relax, even now loose-limbed and breathing easier than she usually does down in the centre of everything. The hushed sound of the city breathing calms her rattling nerves and soothes her anxieties, leaving behind only the dull trace of energy humming in her veins.

She watches Arturo climb up next to her, waiting for his reaction, and when he turns and his eyes widen at the sight, something inside her lights up a little victoriously at it.

He whistles low and appreciatively as he settles down next to her, putting the box of beer at their feet as he looks out towards Diamond City. “Wow. I... never even thought there’d be sights like these around here.”

“Pretty neat, right?” Piper says, feeling just a  _little_  bit proud of herself. “I know all the best sights of anywhere in the Commonwealth. Girl’s gotta find  _some_  spaces where she won’t be bothered or killed.”

She breathes in, watching the citylife move without her in it, and she completely misses the way his eyes flicker at her at the last joke, concerned. Instead, she stretches her legs out a little, and then takes out a pack of her cigarettes without even thinking, pulling one out and halfway to lighting one before she remembers her current company.

“Oh, shoot, sorry, force of habit — “ she apologizes, “Uh, do you mind if I... ?”

Arturo shakes his head, smiling. “No no, it’s fine, go ahead. Used to smoke too, years ago.”

“Quit because of Nina?” Piper asks, putting the cigarette between her lips and lighting it. Breathes in, and feels the tension in her shoulders slowly melt away.

Arturo nods, and moves to crack open a beer instead. “She hated the things. Even threatened me, once, to run away if I didn’t stop, ha. I mean, I didn’t buy it, but it really did upset her, so I stopped. Doesn’t Nat ever complain?”

Piper exhales the smoke from her lungs, looking a bit sheepish. “Yeah, but it’s been hard to stop. Been addicted to these damn things ever since... Well, a long time ago. I don’t smoke indoors, though! Definitely not anywhere near Nat.”

“Fair enough.” Arturo shrugs, smiling, taking a swig of the beer, condensation already beading on the glass. “You’re very considerate, you know?”

The compliment makes her cheeks heat up again, and this time she does the smart thing and just let it flow through her, even though it still makes her a little too awkward to make eye contact. Doesn’t help that they’re sitting close enough that their knees are touching — they don’t have to be, there’s tons of empty space all around them to occupy, but he’s not making a move to move away and she’s definitely not going to.

“Well, Nina’s lucky to have  _you_.” She bounces the compliment back, and finds herself being the one to smile when Arturo blushes this time.

“Ahh, just doing what anyone else would do. I’m not that special.” He tries, and Piper raises a brow.

“What anyone else would do? Uh, ‘Turo, not sure if you’ve noticed, but the Wasteland isn’t exactly fit to brimming with great parenting ideals.” She points out, tapping ash from her cigarette. “I’d say you’re doing pretty good.”

He shrugs. “Maybe. But it’s not much if I compared myself to standards so low they’re non-existent. There’s plenty of good parents out there — in comparison to  _those_ , I think I’m just alright. Nothing special.”

It’s... A fair point, actually, but Piper has to bite her tongue from talking too much about that anyway. Good parents, good families... If you’re lucky enough to grow up with one, you’re already more fortunate than more than half the unluckies roaming the wasteland. Piper knows  _she’s_  fortunate — her parents may be nothing but dust in the wind, now, and she knows she misses her dad most of all, but she  _had_  parents, at least. Good ones. And now, she still has Nat.

She won’t let Nat ever, ever know what it’s like to go without family. Not if she has any say in it.

But at least Arturo seems comfortable with the topic. Doesn’t seem to like talking much about  _himself_ , though that’s understandable — everyone’s got skeletons in their closets out here in the wastes, and for once, Piper wrenches the nosey part of herself that wants to know everything and shoves it down and under her metaphorical pillow. There’s plenty of time for her to find everything out. (She really, really hopes there’s more time.)

When it comes to Nina, Arturo seems to have a thousand and one stories, spinning heartwarming tales out of thin air and a warm twinkle in his eye that screams nothing but fondness for his daughter, and it’s enough to make Piper’s insides ache in the best way. She smokes her cigarettes down to the filter, takes it slow, cracks open a beer when she’s done with two, responds where she can. Hearing him talk is... it’s already so, so good. Listening him talk so  _passionately_  about Nina, with so much love in his eyes — it’s even better. Warms her heart. Seeing him happy makes something in her squeeze-thump, and if their hands brush every so often, so close to each other, well, that just makes it all the better.

And it’s not like it’s lost on Piper either. She... She’s not a parent, definitely doesn’t think motherhood is something she’s down for yet, at least not in the biological sense — but she knows what it’s like to love her family. To be proud in the kindest ways. Saw it in her father’s eyes whenever she or Nat did something good, and feels it in  _herself_  when she sees Nat just... being Nat. So. She gets it. She really,  _really_  gets it.

They talk until the city quiets down, until she ignores her cigarettes completely, beer sitting largely untouched at their feet, bottles still half-full on either side of them. They talk and watch the people slowly file away, back into their homes or to the dugout, until the city is largely quiet and they can only hear the Commonwealth outside the walls. Baying hounds in the distance, the pop-pop of gunshots far off. The hum of the city generators. Each other’s voices, and every exhale.

“... And then Nat gets to watch me friggin’  _sprinting_  back through the city gates, five mutant hounds on my heel.” Piper laughs, extinguishing her cigarette on the concrete. She’s halfway through the pack. “What a show ‘n tell story, huh?”

Arturo chuckles. “Any story where you don’t die is a good one.” His voice drops a tone sadder halfway through the sentence; it makes her breath catch for a second.

“Story of my life.” She finally says, picking up her beer again, and Arturo gives a little huff of a laugh. Soft.

It’s quiet for awhile then, but not uncomfortable. She finishes off her beer, traces the last of it around her lips with her tongue, puts the bottle down with a clink back into the box to be given back later. Feels the back of a warm hand brushing against her own. They’ve been sitting, idle contact like this, for probably almost the entire time they’ve been up here now. It’s almost heady, this kind of contact.

When she looks up, though, she finds Arturo looking at her. Not in a weird way; kind of speculative, almost sad, and the way all of his attention is on her makes her pulse spike again, cheeks warming.  _Did I say something wrong_  —

“You really do have a lot of stories, Piper. A lot of excitement, a lot of... danger.” He finally says, breaking eye contact to look back out towards the city. “Never realized the full extent of it all until recently.”

“Yeah, well.” Piper half-smiles, willing her heartbeat to calm down. “Part and parcel of the job, you know? Paper, pen, pistol. The whole shebang. But you’ve seen your own fair share of wild stories.”

Arturo laughs a little at that. “Please, barely. And most of them were years and years ago, far before Nina. I left all that behind me when she came into this world.”

Piper smiles. Draws her knees up and rests her head on them. “You’re a really dedicated father, aren’t you? Unfairly selfless. Don’t even try to argue with me, I’ve got a stubborn streak for  _days_.”

He throws his hands up in a mock-surrender, chuckling, and then puts them down again. “Fine, fine, I got you. But you’re a pretty dedicated sister yourself.”

 _The bestest sister, up until you go and get yourself killed and fuck Nat over for life_ , an ugly part of her brain abruptly decides to pitch in, and Piper feels her own smile pull tight. Hates, more than anything, that her brain is telling the truth.

“Ha, sure.” She finds herself saying, bite on her tongue aimed at herself, and she tries to shake the worst of it off. No need to drop the mood so suddenly. She hopes he doesn’t notice. “I mean... Thank you.”

But of course, he’s too observant for that. Arturo’s face falls a little, but into concern. “Piper?”

She glances at him, meets his eyes, and immediately feels guilty and terrible.  _Stop ruining your date with your depressing crap, oh my god_.

She ends up forcing a little laugh, dismissively waving her hand. “No, no, I mean it,  _thank_  you. Just,  _ha_ , sorry, brain stuff, you know how it is with me.” She ends that by moving her finger in a circle around her temple,  _loopy_.

He doesn’t seem to buy it. Keeps giving her that same look that makes her insides squeeze and pull, and when she straightens up and drops her hands back to the concrete, his is right there, brushing against hers. Warm skin on her own, sparks on every milimetre of contact. They’re not holding hands, but their pinkies are just. Touching. Right there, and she swears the world slows down.

She has to close her eyes for a second. She still can’t believe this moment exists.

And she still can’t believe than even right now, her brain won’t let go of her baggage and let her  _enjoy_  it.

_You came this close to never experiencing this. You came this close._

“Piper.” Arturo says, and it forces her eyes open, makes her realize she’s had them shut for longer than she wanted to.

She sighs, frustrated, entirely at herself. “God, I’m sorry, I just — woo, way to go Piper, way to ruin the whole date with your, your — “ and then she loses the words and just gestures wildly with her other hand. Then drops it. “... Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Arturo says, cracking her a small smile, sincere and it makes her heart hurt with just how  _nice_  he is, “I’m serious.”

“So am I. Ha.” Piper snorts, shaking her head. “This probably wasn’t what you expected, I — “

“Piper, we... I’d like to think we’re friends. At the very  _least_.” Arturo cuts her off before she can finish that. Sucks in a breath of his own, exhales through his nose. “You can tell me, you know. If anything bothers you. I mean, I won’t push if you really don’t want to, but — it’s important to me that you know you’re not alone out here. I’m serious.”

It shakes the breath out of her. Makes something hitch in her throat a little. A part of her doesn’t want to say anything, wants to yell at herself for ruining a romantic evening by making it sad with her own weird headspace —

But then she feels his hand, the one nudged up by her own. A pinky, touching. Hooking onto hers, hesitantly. It makes her eyes widen, and when she sees how dark his cheeks have gone under the moonlight it makes her heart squeeze something  _fierce_ , something warm and affectionate and god, he’s going to ruin her like this. Kill her with kindness. It makes her smile, somewhat.

She hooks her pinky back, and draws steadiness from the contact, even has her heartbeat zips through her like lightning.

She gathers herself.

“It’s just,” she starts, after awhile, laughing a little bit, but not in a kind way to herself, “You know, sometimes I wonder if it’s. Better, if I just... quit this whole gig.”

Arturo was expecting but clearly not... that, if his expression is any indication. “What?”

Piper shrugs helplessly. “I just. I mean. Like, sure, you can  _say_  dedicated big sister and all, but I keep getting myself into — I nearly  _died_  at Bunker Hill. And like, a billion other times before that. I mean, one of these days, I...”

She bites her lip.

“’Turo, what if I don’t come home?”

Arturo is painfully quiet, but the words keep coming anyway. And well, if she’s going to ruin a good thing going she might as well go hard or go home. It almost makes her laugh, if things didn’t hurt inside so much right now.

“Like. I keep saying I love my job. I mean, I live and breathe for it, but for every time I barely escape  _death_  I’m... terrified. Dying is still — I’m still not ready to face that yet.

“And — I keep  _saying_  it, that I won’t leave Nat alone. We already — she never even got to meet mom, you know? Out of the picture, dust in the wind, before Nat even learnt to walk. And then we lost dad later, and even though I’m all she’s got now and I  _know_  that, I just.” Piper releases a shaky, frustrated sigh. “Smarter people would probably quit while they’re ahead. I know I’m lucky to get away alive, not just once but so many times, but one of these days my luck’s gonna run out and it’s not gonna be just  _me_  who’ll get hurt. I can’t — I keep feeling like I’m failing her. Or like, at least, I _will_. She’s gonna resent me, if she hasn’t already.”

And there it is. It’s... out there, now. Hanging in the air, silent and still. Swears she can hear a pin drop. Arturo doesn’t say anything and she can’t bring herself to look at him, feels nothing but shame and fear clouding the parts of her she was happy to embrace in her youth. Shuts her eyes and lets her mind yell at her.  _You ruined it, just like you thought you would. You ruined it just like you ruin everything else. Who wants someone with as much risk and baggage as you?_  Her heart squeezes again, not in a good way this time. 

It hurts, to scrape at the parts of her that ache and put it out in the open, but this time she hears a little huff of a laugh beside her, and when she turns Arturo is looking at her with the softest eyes and a gentle smile. Her pulse skips a beat, and when he squeezes her pinky with her own the ache dulls minutely.  _Oh, good,_  she figures,  _haven’t scared him off yet_.

“I don’t think you and failure belong in the same sentence.” Arturo says, lips twitching upwards, though not cruelly.

Piper finds her own doing the same, though maybe still a bit more pained than she’d like. “You’d be surprised. I mean, I could always do Nat and myself a favour and just... I dunno, become a farmer or something. Pick up some overalls and a shovel.” She leans back a little, looking upwards to the sky, elbowing Arturo a little when he chuckles. “I’m serious! I — there’s a bunch of farms that supply to Diamond City. And it’s not like I don’t  _know_  how to farm, I used to do that back where Nat and I came from. Grew up with it. I... I could really do it. It’d be easier on us.” 

Arturo hums thoughtfully. Quiet for a beat or two. “But would it make  _you_ happy?”

And Piper — she doesn’t even need to think twice for the answer to come to her.

“No,” she breathes out, “And that’s the problem. I can’t let  _go_  of this stupid reporter thing, even though it’s probably going to kill me one of these days —  but I just. There’s just  _so much_  the Commonwealth doesn’t  _know_ , refuses to  _see_ , and I just can’t let it  _stay_  that way. Can’t keep my mouth shut, can’t keep my nose out of other people’s business. I know — I  _know_  what I do is important. It has to be.”

“But you’re not sure if it’s worth the cost anymore.” Arturo finishes for her, and a knot loosens in her chest, even if the weight’s still there.

She exhales. “Yeah.”

They fall back into another lapse in conversation, though it’s less heavy this time around. Piper won’t, can’t blame him if he doesn’t respond to that. It’s not the kind of thing there  _is_  a good, solid response for. But it’s off her chest and that alone already makes her feel just the slightest bit better, even if it doesn’t exactly the solve the issue.

He does respond though, after awhile. “... Do you mind if i tell you something too? I mean. To make things fair.”

Piper blinks. Looks over at him, where he’s staring out to the city. “Of course, anything.”

Arturo looks over at her, smiling, before his free hand comes up and brushes against the V scar on his throat. Piper’s eyes widen of their own accord — she can’t help it, the nosey part of her is instantly piqued.

“Two guesses as to how I got this scar.” Arturo says, tone light. “Only two.”

Piper frowns. “Uh. Raider attack? Or... was it from the yao guai incident?”

“Ha! That’d be a story, but no.” Arturo laughs, shaking his head. “No, this was from meeting Nina’s mother for the first time.”

Piper’s jaw nearly  _drops_.

“She hurt you??” Piper gapes.

“To be fair, I surprised her while she was sleeping, so.” Arturo grins, sounding more amused than a man  _should_  for talking about getting stabbed. “I used to be a scavver. Wanderer. And then holed up in an old building, I thought she was a corpse, she was lying so still. So I was just, ehh, and came closer to ‘loot’ her, and right as I get down beside her, she spins around and the next thing I know I’m on the floor, bleeding like a holiday radstag. Luckily she realized I was mostly harmless and had a spare stimpak on hand. I could’ve died there.”

Piper’s gaze goes soft. Snorts a little, settling back down and relaxing. “Is this the part where you tell me that you left the dangerous life behind and I should do the same? Or maybe, not surprising sleeping wasters?”

Arturo has the good grace to nudge her shoulder a little, laughing. “Hey, who’s story is this? And besides, that’s not what I was going to say. Or, rather — not exactly.”

When Piper smiles and makes a  _go on_  gesture, he does. “What I  _wanted_  to lead up to is this; it’s your choice, what you want to do. It’s your life. Your happiness. And if you can’t let go of something — compromise.”

He... isn’t wrong, about that. “I wish it were that easy.”

Arturo shrugs. “It isn’t. That’s the problem, I think. I was lucky. I loved wandering, loved to scavenge old things and put them back together. Weapons especially. My father did it and I picked up the mantle. You can find some of the best old pieces of gold if you scour around enough, you know? And so did Angi. She knew more about scavenging than anyone I’ve ever known. We were so young, so happy — wanderers, hand in hand, seeing the sights and pockets heavy with what we made off of our loot. It was good.

“But then we had Nina. And Angi didn’t want to end the pregnancy, but she wasn’t ready to be a mother either. We were so young then, you know? She wasn’t ready to give up the wanderer’s life.” Arturo explains. Casual, as if he isn’t laying personal, private details for Piper to see. “But I wanted Nina, so. I’ll spare the details of how Angi left, but after Nina was born, I headed straight to Broken Hills. Set up a weapons repair and trade shop, grew into a good business, and then I left to come here.”

 _Broken Hills_. The settlement doesn’t strike as familiar to Piper, and she purses her lips a little in thought. Maybe not from the Commonwealth, then. “If things were going so well, why’d you leave?”

“Eh, the amount of radiation from the mines — not the best place to raise a kid. Took what I had and made what, I think, was essentially my last move as a wanderer. Just kept walking with Nina, taking shelter in friendly settlements and farms, until we hit cleaner air and clearer skies and Diamond City, with the water purifier and the electricity and the defenses and education... A real  _diamond_  in the rough.”

The pun makes Piper’s eyes go wide, before she snorts hard enough to hurt and elbows him lightly in the side, his grin bright. “Oh my god, did you just tell me  _all_  of that just for that pun — “

He  _laughs_ , sounding proud of himself, nudging her back. “No, Piper, I didn’t just do that for the pun. And I didn’t mean to lecture you either.”

She lets out a little amused huff. “Fine, I believe you. Then what?”

“Just, that Angi and myself —  I think we both made the right decisions that fit us best, without hurting anyone else. Angi wasn’t ready to be a mother and left us on decent terms. I got to raise Nina and still tinker with guns, like I love to do, minus the scavving. She left. I compromised. Both equally understandable choices.” Arturo shrugs, before looking back over to Piper, eyes going soft again. “Angi and I both loved wandering. But having Nina — she could’ve stayed. I could’ve asked and Angi would’ve stayed for the both of us, I know she would’ve. But she wouldn’t have been happy. It’s the same with you, I think. You  _could_  stay here. Become a farmer, or something. But after everything you’ve told me — are you sure you’d be happy with that? Giving up everything?”

Piper sighs. Fidgets a little, with her free hand, finger picking at a hangnail on her thumb.  _God, if only things were easier_.

“It’s not like I can compromise on the paper the same way you can. I, I mean, you make  _sense_ , I get you, but like. It’s not like I can write the paper from home, you know? I can’t get stories unless I’m — unless I’m  _out there_ , getting them.” She gestures helplessly, struggling for the right words before giving up. “How would I — how would I know what to do?’

It’s Arturo’s turn to frown, now, looking a little helpless himself, shrugging. “I wish I knew, Piper. I know I said all that but — I’m fortunate, I think, to be able to make the decision I did. Not everyone else’s decisions are that simple.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Piper half-laughs, tiredly. Rubs a hand over her face. “Maybe I can start small. Or  _smart_ , at least. Note to self, Piper, you idiot — bring a better gun next time.”

Arturo laughs a little, and Piper finds herself smiling despite herself. “While I don’t agree on the idiot part, I can absolutely vouch for the better gun. In fact, I may have a few back at the shop you might like to check out. Maybe give some mods a spin.”

Piper fixes him a look, brow cocked, teasing grin on her lips. “Aw, what, are you seriously trying to  _sell_  me something on our date? Some gentleman you are.”

“Hard to shed the businessman’s mantle, my apologies.” Arturo admits, though he doesn’t look at all sorry. But when he fixes her  _that_  look again — the one with the kind eyes and the warm smile and the darkened cheeks, so tender and fond she loses her breath — she can’t find it in her at all to be in any way miffed. “I get... Worried too, you know. When you leave. So does Nat, always waiting for you to come back. But she’s always so proud — of you, of the paper. I know I am. You know she spends half her time at my stall when you’re gone, just telling Nina about the things you’ve done?”

Piper’s eyes widen. “I — really?”

Arturo nods, smiling. “Always. It’s  _you know, Piper found a supermutant den last week_  or  _did you know Piper saved these bunch of brahmin that got stuck on a building roof one time_? I swear, she nearly gave Nina and myself nightmares when she told us about the museum in Salem. What was it she said — albino deathclaw?”

“ _Huge_  albino deathclaw. Couldn’t get out of there fast enough.” Piper replies, neck warm. 

She can’t help the hesitant smile that spreads on her face, the heat on her cheeks. Feeling almost embarrassed to hear this much praise. Nat’s always been enthusiastic about the paper, almost worryingly so — but to know Nat means it enough to gush to Nina and Arturo about it, to know that Nat is proud of  _Piper herself_ , it’s... it makes something inside her feel lighter.

“So she said. Nat loves talking about you, and the paper — if anything, at least, you don’t need to worry about her growing spiteful to you.” Arturo reassures her, slowly, kindly. “Maybe that’s your compromise. Maybe you don’t  _have_  to stop going out there to get your stories. Just... maybe be a little pickier about which ones you have to go out for. Space them out. Come home a little more often, stay around a little longer. And maybe bring backup when you head out. It’ll help keep you alive.”

And of course, it’s still not that simple. Piper doubts it ever will be — hired guns are expensive and can only be trusted as far as you can throw ‘em. And every story out there in the Commonwealth is important to her. It’s her downfall, she knows; her stubborn streak, her nosiness, the fact she hears about danger and runs headlong into it with her notebook and her recorder instead of thinking about the consequences first.

But Arturo, at least, makes sense. And making the effort to stay back a little longer, maybe empty out the rest of her caps on things that’ll hopefully keep her more alive — it’s something she can do. Something she  _will_.

It’s a good start, and it’ll have to be enough, for now.

The knot of tension in her ribs start to unwind. Feels herself relaxing again, the night coming back to her in bits of pieces of all the good things she felt earlier, but  _better_. Better because she’s alive, safe, that Nat is alive and safe, that everyone in Diamond City is, even Ann Codman, sort of. Good food, good beer, better company — Arturo’s pinky is still linked with hers, and they breathe almost in unison. Relaxed. She’d never thought being around him would be  _this_ easy — and it’s the best kind of surprise.

When she looks at Arturo again, he looks just as calm — staring out over the quietened settlement now, the great green jewel going to bed like the rest of the Commonwealth. The wasteland never sleeps, but it does lull some after the sun slips back down over the horizon. She watches his eyes trail from the rooftops to the stands, and then back over to her, and it feels almost like the world’s stood still. Breath caught in her lungs sweetly and they’re sitting close enough to share body heat. Close enough that they can trade air. The Commonwealth summer brings warmer nights, but she can’t find it in herself to mind the proximity.

A new, comfortable tension settles between them. Illuminated by nothing but the twinkling city lights and the stars and moon, it throws Arturo into sharp, perfect contrasts. His eyes are so bright, here. She can trace the curve of his smile, warm and fond and so affectionate it curls through her chest like ivy between her ribs. Nestling, like it belongs, like it’s belonged there this whole time.

Her heart thrums in her chest. Heat blooms across her neck and cheeks. She feels his hand move, hesitantly, to hold her own, and something inside her  _settles_.

She’s always been someone to run headlong into things, after all.

Piper moves, turns to Arturo. Leans a little closer, feeling the rush of blood to her head in the way his eyes widen. But he doesn’t move away, not even an inch, and when she sees the way his eyes slowly go half-lidded, the way his body turns a little to face her own, she grabs hold of her sudden bravery, leans in towards him and — finally — closes the distance.

It’s perfect. It isn’t. It’s everything and nothing and something amazing, Arturo’s mouth warm on her own, chapped, tasting faintly of gwinnett pilsner, and when she kisses him a little deeper he makes a funny little sound in his throat that makes her heart  _sing_. Arturo’s free hand slips to her shoulder, holds her arm like he wants to draw her into him, and Piper lets her fingers curl into the worn cotton of his flannel, mouths moving together, warm, heady, enough to make her mind blank out blissfully until they need to come up for air.

When they do, it’s almost funny. Like the same world’s still spinning around them but they’re floating just above it, and Piper’s breathless in the best of ways, Arturo the same, looking at each other, dazed. Hands still holding, between them.

“Hey,” Piper finally says, stupid grin tugging on the edges of her mouth more than she can help.

“Hey.” Arturo responds, melting into a smile of his own almost instantly, like he does it without thinking. Lips gleaming, subtly, under the starlight.

 _I did that_ , Piper thinks,  _I did that._

“We didn’t even finish our beer.” Arturo laughs a little, ducking his head down.

“Well, there’s always next time, right?” Piper offers, and tries not to sound to hopeful, in the unspoken question between the words.

Arturo’s eyes widen minutely, looking back up at her before he smiles in a way that’s almost  _bashful_  and he chuckles. “Of course. Can’t let good beer go to waste.” 

 _Yes_ , goes the unspoken answer to the unspoken question, and Piper feels heady with it all when she catches his gaze flickering from her mouth back to her eyes.

“Good.” Piper says, laughter in her voice, and leans in a second time.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time she unlocks the door to her home and steps back in, she’s  _thrumming_  on good energy, almost vibrating from it all. Hasn’t stopped smiling since she and Arturo had parted at his stall, his own grin enough to power the whole of Diamond City, and if she danced a little and hummed on the way back to her place, well, that’s her own business, thank you very much.

It’s definitely  _late_ , she realizes as she has the wits about her to shut the door gently. One-something in the morning, if she squints enough through the dark to see the clock on the wall. There aren’t any lights on inside, but there’s the soft glow of the oil lamp on Nat’s side, because she’s still not used to sleeping on her own in the dark yet. Piper knows the layout of her own home enough to make her way over, though, guided a little by the faint yellow glow behind the partition. Peers behind it.

Feels her heart turn to mush, a little, when she sees Nat asleep in her bedroll. Curled up a little in her proud place behind the printing machine, where she had even refused Piper’s bed and mattress to keep her little den. Eyes shut, brown hair fanned out on the only comfy pillow Piper could afford. Seeing Nat like this, growing up so fast, mature beyond her years; its moments like these that remind Piper of how  _young_  Nat really is. How vulnerable.

 _Now you’ll have to stick around!_ , Piper remembers Nat saying when she heard about the date with Arturo.

Piper gets it now.

A different kind of fondness settles in over her heart as she walks upstairs, undoing her ponytail and slipping into comfier clothing. Feels something familial, affectionate,  _good_ , as Piper grabs her pillow and her blanket and heads back down the wooden steps and over to where Nat is. She’s careful not to mess anything around when she clears the small bit of space beside her sister of her stuff, and puts her pillow down to lie next to her.

“... Piper?” Comes a sleepy voice from beside her, and Piper blinks as she turns to Nat, looking blearily back at her with sleepy eyes.

“Hey there, kiddo.” Piper greets back softly, resuming her movement and settling down on the ground, pulling the blanket up to her chest. Nat blinks at her sleepily, but still manages to scoot a little to the side in her bedroll, making room.

This isn’t the first time Piper’s gone to sleep next to Nat instead of up in her own bed, so it’s probably why Nat doesn’t question it. Instead just settles in, yawns, and rubs her eyes.

“You just come back fr’m your date?” Nat says, groggily.

Even in her sleep-dazed state, she seems to perk up and smile when Piper does. “Yeah. I did. It went great.”

Nat grins, waking up a little more, eyes wider. “So does that mean you and him are... ?”

“We don’t know yet. But we’re grabbing a beer this weekend, so.” Piper grins amusedly, and a little bashful herself. “We’ll see where that goes.”

“Cool.” Nat smiles. “I knew you could do it.”

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without some  _help_  on the way.” Piper says, giving Nat a pointed look, and tries not to give in to laughing when Nat’s eyes widen in recognition and she shrinks back a little. “Yeah, don’t think I didn’t figure it out.”

“Busted.” Nat groans, hiding her face a little, and Piper just shakes her head, smiling, before it grows a little sadder.

“Nat, did you really think I’d stay behind for him, but not for you?” Piper says, softly, after a few quiet beats. “Did you think I put Arturo above you, or something?”

Nat doesn’t pop out from under the blanket of her bedroll for a few more quiet moments. Piper waits. And when Nat finally does, there’s a hint of shame in her eyes, a little guilt. It’s just a little bit heartbreaking.

“No... I mean. Maybe?” Nat admits, meekly. Avoids Piper’s eyes. “I know I’m just your little brat sister, and whenever you talk about him you seem so  _happy_ , so I thought...”

“That if you set us up, I’d stay? Nat, c’mon.” Piper says sadly, moving in closer to pet Nat. Strokes the coarse brown hair that reminds Piper of their father. “Nat, I  — I  _like_  him, but you’re my sister. Okay? You’re the most important thing to me right now. I swear it. You don’t  _have_  to set me up with your best friend’s  _dad_  to get me to stick around.”

She tries to joke around a little, right at the end there, and she feels her shoulders lighten when it works, Nat popping out with damp eyes, but a little smile. Grins when she listens to Nat laugh in weak protest when Piper reaches over to wipe them away with the back of her hand, and then wipes that on the bedroll.

“So does that mean you’re staying longer this time?” Nat asks, timidly, but still grinning. “You’re not gonna leave just yet, right?”

Piper lets her grin come in full force, and Nat’s eyes widen in recognition a second too late as Piper surges forward, grabbing her little sister and ruffling her hair, giving her a rough little noogie. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy!”

“Piper, ow, stop!” Nat laughs, struggling only briefly. “Piper, I’m not eight anymore!”

She relents, after a second, though she’s still got an arm wrapped around her sister, breathless with laughter. She pulls Nat in a little closer, along with her bedroll. She’d share her blanket if it weren’t already warm enough.

“You’re important to me. Okay? You’re my sister. We Wrights gotta stick together.” Piper finally says, fondly, once they settle down. “Don’t ever forget that.”

She sees Nat’s head turn, just enough to look at Piper, and the shy little smile. “Fine, okay.”

Piper smiles. Pats her shoulder reassuringly. 

“But you’re still  _super_  grounded, by the way. For a month.”

Nat’s brows shoot up on her face, nearly cracking her neck to look back at Piper and release a little exclaim of “What!” followed by a moment of silence.

And then Nat slowly breaks into a sheepish little grin. “If I let you noogie me some more can I be ungrounded?”

Piper raises a brow, smirking. “What, you think I’d let you off the hook for meddling in me and Arturo’s personal life? You guys messed with guns! That’s dangerous!”

“ _You_  get to mess with guns!” Nat protests, before grumbling a little. “And all we used was a hammer. Anyone knows how to use a hammer.”

“ _Two_  months.” Piper sings a little, and laughs hard enough to hurt when Nat swats her on the shoulder and goes  _no!_

In the end, Piper settles on three weeks, because while she’s still grateful, of course that Nat and Nina had set the whole thing up, she’s got to put her big sister gloves on  _somewhere_. They end up lying right next to each other, Piper stealing Nat’s comfy pillow, Nat’s head nestled in the crook of Piper’s arm, comfortable, curled.

There’s a lot of things she’s grateful for in life. Her impeccable luck. The people around her. Nat, Arturo, Nina. And tonight, it’s how her nightmares leave her alone, and her heart feels lighter as she falls comfortably to a dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh this took so long THANK YOU to the ever patient [Katrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katrinajg) for letting me take my time finishing my half of this fic trade. i hope it was worth it skfjhskfs this isn't the sort of pairing i'd normally write and it's my first time writing either of them but it was fun !
> 
> there's some parts i had to cut out bc it didn't fit the flow or didn't make any sense but uh if anyone wants to read those, my scraps file is posted on my [first draft tumblr right here](http://keyronickles.tumblr.com/post/165754107651/scraps-what-if-i-gave-my-ambition-for-a-brain) (where you may also find a bunch of previously uploaded fics and non-uploaded fics, all of them largely untagged and unedited. proceed at own risk.)
> 
> ily katrina mwa mwa !!


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